Café D'Amour
by Red Strings of Fate
Summary: The name of the newly opened French café, 'Café D'Amour' translated to:'Café of Love' wasn't just for show. It might actually have the power to intertwine the destinies of a certain couple-who were obviously meant to be.
1. CPR Is Not For Me

**Café D'Amour**

**Disclaimer: **Gakuen Alice belongs to a specific Japanese mangaka!

**Summary: **The name of the newly opened French café, 'Café D'Amour'- translated to:'Café of Love' wasn't just for show. It might actually have the power to intertwine the destinies of a certain couple; who were obviously meant to be.

**Author's Note: **I think this will be a very cute story! It's a bit frenchy, loving, and hopefully- funny. Though to be honest, my sense of humour is quite off, so please bear with me! :P  
Enjoy! ;)

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг is just a break between events, happenings, or change in perspectives for those who don't know and have just read my one of my stories for the first time!

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**Chapter I: CPR Is Not For Me  
**

**BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. **

Ugh…what time is it? Unwillingly, I eased myself on my elbow and peeked at the electric clock on the floor beside my tatami mat.

6:02 A.M.

**BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.**

Today is…what? I had to look towards the ceiling to think.

Saturday?

…Saturday- the day I start my new part-time job at 6:15 A.M.

**BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. **

6:02…6:15…

Realization washed over me: I'm going to be late!

**BEEP- **slamming the 'off' button, I got up to clean my face and clear my mind.

Rushing, I didn't notice the cold, hardwood floor under my feet as I ran to the bathroom and back again in almost no time. My foot had come in contact with something small, green, and on its back on the way- I kicked it out of the way.

Stupid Hotaru.

Tugging at the tank-top and cotton pants I wore to sleep and tripping along the way, I rapidly slid on a skirt and a clean top while I ran to the kitchen and introduced a piece of bread to my toaster. While waiting, I quickly grabbed a random bag under one of my kitchen counters and back into my room to stuff my newest uniform in and set it aside, near the door. Though it's the cutest uniform I've ever seen- it's really not something I'd want other people outside of the café to see me in...

Snatching a glass cup from one of my cupboards, I opened my fridge and poured a reasonable amount of milk in it. When I drained half of it, the bread celebrated becoming toast as it jumped out of the toaster with a small 'pop' sound. Hastily, I consumed what was left of my milk, arrested the toast between my chains of teeth, picked up the bag, and headed out the door of my small apartment.

Before I closed the door behind me, I stuck my head in and shouted, "I'm leaving!" out of habit…and hope. But as usual, no one was there to answer.

With a sigh, I locked the door and immediately started to speed-walk. The café was only a block down from where I live.

When I could recognize the attractive pattern of lovely swirls shaping into hearts of every size and every colour around the wonderful balcony on the second floor, I would instantly know if it was the exterior decoration of Café D'Amour- the newest and bound-to-be-popular café around, and me, Mikan, who was lucky to get a part-time job for it!

I impulsively clicked open the locket I always had around my neck. It was in the colour of silver and it had a clock on one side with a picture on the other. It was also the only thing I had left of my deceased mother.

6:13- Thank goodness! I'm going to make it!

The day was so pleasant, the weather more agreeable than most. Early risers take their morning runs while others with briefcases were making their way to work. I realized, happily, that I might be seeing more than a handful of those people who make a habit of taking a break for tea or coffee.

The sun, rising in the east, was splashing beautiful, bright shades of red, orange, and yellow across the vast sky and flavouring the clouds with it. I watched, fascinated, as the cheerful lights of the rising sun spilled onto the dark streets of Tokyo while I turned into a narrow, nearly abandoned, street.

And, I thought absent-mindedly, illuminating the boy lying in front of the entrance of Café D'Amour as I was approaching.

Munching on the last bits of what was left of my toast, I mentally analyzed my day so far:

1) Got up before 6:15. Check.

2) Had a decent breakfast. Check

3) Dressed appropriately- and properly. Check.

4) Got to work on time with uniform. Check.

5) Remembered not to step on the boy lying unconscious in front of the entrance. Che-huh…?

Oh.

With utter horrified awareness, I finally saw him.

A boy was lying face-down on the pavement, just outside of the isolated café that just opened and happened to hire me in for a part-time job.

Panic rushed through me as my imagination ran wild and free. I could see the headlines of tomorrow's daily newspaper now:

Café D'Amour Employee Suspected for Murder  
_Café D'Amour, along with their newly-hired waitress, infamous for working in the café haunted by the mysterious, ghostly soul of a departed boy who appeared out of nowhere on an unexpected, beautiful day-_

I noticed his back moving up and down slowly…which means…?

He's breathing! Which means…?

….He's alive! Relief spread through me like a wave as I released a sigh and pressed a hand to my chest- reassuring myself that **I **was still breathing as well.

Panic found its way back to me as I crouched near the boy and dropped my bag next to me. If he is breathing but unconscious, then there is still the slight chance that his airway might get cut off if the problem's not found and something's not done.

I'm glad we had that CPR unit back in middle school and that I actually _paid attention_. And to think that back then, I thought the day when I'd need it would never even exist.

Boy was I ever wrong!

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Step-by-step, Mikan thought and did everything slowly and watchfully. She didn't want to hurt him in any way as her old, annoying, and snippy sensei's voice rang through her mind:

_"First step: Check the person's surroundings to make sure that there isn't anything potentially dangerous that can harm them in any way…MIKAN! DON'T STARE AT THE ICE-CREAM TRUCK! CONCENTRATE ON THE UNCONSCIOUS MAN!" _

Mikan rolled her eyes as she observed her surroundings. _Nope, nothing, _and smiled. _Not even an ice cream truck._

_"Second step: Make loud noises, like slapping the floor, to make sure the person is actually unconscious and not asleep. NO, MIKAN! DON'T SLAP **HIM**! SLAP THE GROUND!" _

Grinning, Mikan placed both her hands on either side of the boy's head and started to slap them against the cold, hard, pavement.

"Are you okay? Are you awake? Can you hear me? Hel-lo!" No response.

_"Third Step: After making sure they are unconscious, tell someone nearby to call the ambulance to tell them of your location and the situation at hand. And NO, Mikan, don't even think about wasting energy, trying to scream 'help' for Superman to take him to the hospital!"_

That sensei knew me pretty well, she mused. Mikan took a good look around her, she didn't own a cell. This café was located between trees for shade and an exotic look. Almost no one knew about it or thinks about crossing paths here- not yet anyway.

_There's no one around. _Totally missing the fact that the café was likely to have a phone inside.

_Great, just great. I guess I have no choice but to skip that step and hope that there's nothing seriously wrong with this boy. _

_"Fourth step: Make sure that they're facing up-ward so that you can check their breathing. Do not forget the standard and safe way of turning them over- MIKAN! YOU CAN'T MOVE HIM IF YOU'RE HUGGING HIM!" _Mikan scowled and then beamed. Her sensei wasn't patient with her at all. Sensei didn't seem to understand how Mikan's mind works. Mikan was simply hugging the dummy while wishing and willing him to become conscious, being the dense kid she was.

And still is.

Carefully, at a snail's pace, Mikan clutched the left side of the boy's head with her right hand underneath his stomach and eased him onto his back. _My, what a handsome face…eh? He's not even a boy, _Mikan realized in shock, _he's…he's…_

_HE'S A MAN! _

Mikan shook off the surprise and scolded herself, _concentrate! _She bent down with her left ear facing his mouth while her eyes watched for any movement on his chest. She could hear him breathing and his chest moved like any normal, breathing, alive person. Unfortunately, the breathing was both shaky and raspy.

_He's not choking on anything- that's a relief. _Mikan knew it meant that she still had to give him CPR to clear his airway since it was obviously hard for him to breathe. Which means…?

_I have to give him mouth-to-mouth…_Mikan gulped and looked down at him nervously and studied him. _Look's to be around my age...a strong facial structure...thin, moist lips…-_She shook her head violently, forcing the image that formed in her mind's eye to disappear. It's not the time to be thinking impure thoughts! she told herself.

Before she could convince herself that keeping her first kiss for her future-special-someone was more important than saving a life, Mikan placed her left hand on his forehead and the index and middle fingers of her right hand under his chin to tilt his head back and part his lips. Hesitating slightly, Mikan lowered her head even while her blood pumped hot and her heart drummed against her chest. _Doki-doki-doki-doki_. She couldn't seem to close her eyes as they were too attached on the handsome visage a few centimeters away...her lips were so close that they could have already touched...she was close enough to feel his breath...

"OHAIYO! You must be Mikan-chan, the new waitress I hired! Welcome to my café…oh, is that your boyfriend? Iye, Mikan! You mustn't get so lovey-dovey right in front my café! What will the neighbours say?" The store owner was waving and greeting Mikan warmly, teasing her at the same time from the second floor balcony.

Mikan froze as soon as she heard the loud voice and snapped back into reality. It took awhile for her to grasp what Narumi-sensei- he had told her to call him that over the phone- had said and what she was doing, finally taking in that she was only a breath away from a lip-to-lip contact.

With relief and confusing disappointment, Mikan swung her head back up and looked for the source of Narumi-sensei's voice. She looked up and saw him…wearing the uniform for his café.

A black and white outfit that was tailored to look like a French maid's work uniform.

Yup, he was wearing it alright.

"E-to…Narumi-sensei, I have to be honest with you, but I thought you were a man when we spoke over the phone- I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude- I didn't realize that um…you were…I mean, I thought-" Mikan stumbled with words.

"Ah! This?" Narumi-sensei looked down at what he was wearing. He seemed to not notice how ridiculous it would've looked on a man's anatomy, "I was just checking to see how it would look like- in case I wanted it changed or altered in any way. Actually, I was waiting for you so I could see it, but you were late as of…"he glanced down at his wrist watch, "Nine minutes ago." The corners of his mouth pulled into a smile.

"My apologies! I was sure I was here on time…" Mikan looked down and remembered why she was late, "AH! NARUMI-SENSEI! THERE'S AN UNCONSCIOUS STRANGER WHO NEEDS TO BE TAKEN TO THE HOSPITAL!"

"So he's not your boyfriend, I'm relieved!" He joked and winked, "I'm coming down- give me a second throw on something more manly."

Mikan was thankful that an adult was around. She wouldn't know what to do if she gave the man thirty chest compressions and broke his ribs.

Why was it possible? She broke the dummy. Then she thought of something even more serious: If their lips had met. She would've lost her first kiss to a complete stranger!

Narumi-sensei came through the rotating entrance of the café, dressed uniquely, but in a way that you can still tell that he was a 'he'. "Stand back and let me take a look." Mikan picked up her bag, stood up, and gave them some space. Narumi-sensei was listening to his breathing and put a hand to his stomach, too, like she did.

Mikan took this chance to study her boss. Wavy, blond hair, unique style of clothing, a heart-warming smile, and two beauty marks under his left eye- overall, looks too young to be a café owner. Fortunately, he appeared to be a friendly, kind, and understanding person. Mikan nodded in approval to herself, _he's bound to be better than my CPR-sensei anyway, _and smiled as she watched him.

"Mikan-chan, what were you doing? This boy's not unconscious, he is simply asleep."

Mikan was about to argue with the fact that that 'boy' was really a man- but decided to drop it since he probably seemed like a boy to an adult like Narumi-sensei. Then the more essential thing he had said dawned on her, "How? I thought…I made noises! He didn't even budge!"

"He hadn't had anything to eat and fainted. You could hear his stomach growling like a lion's roar and he probably ended up sleeping since he had no energy to get up. His raspy breathing is due to the lack of nutrition. He needs to be taken care of." Like the 'man' weighed nothing, Narumi picked him up and over his shoulders, then walked through the rotating doors.

Mikan stood there for a moment, trying to absorb all the information.

She used her hand to hit her head as a way of punishment.

_Note to self: Never assume that all men lying in front of entrances and sleeping on cement floors needs to have their lives saved.  
P.S. CPR is not for me.  
P.P.S. Am I allowed to put "P.S.'s" into mental notes that are for myself?_

With that last lingering though, she followed Narumi-sensei inside the café to treat the impossibly dazzling 'man' over his shoulders.

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**Author's Note: **To anyone who thinks this story isn't very good based on this chapter, I encourage you to keep going because it gets better! :)

Thanks for reading!

_Red Strings Of Fate_


	2. Repaying Debts

Café D'Amour

**Chapter II: Repaying Debts  
**

Inside, Mikan was frozen in awe. It was even more conspicuous inside the café!

Mikan studied the interior: the tables were covered in appealing checkered, lavender cloths and stood with a supporter in the center. On the centre of every table were attractive candle holders shaped like flowers of all sorts- within them were tall, extravagant candles.

The backs of the chairs were stylishly designed to match the exterior of the café- abstract swirls of hearts that were cushioned and multi-coloured, also with a supporter in the center and a wide circular base. At the back of the café, she saw washroom signs without doors- obviously for hygienic reasons.

What seemed to attract the eyes weren't really the tables or chairs, though, but where they were set up. Around a large elegantly-made, semi-spherical counter in betwixt and between everything else.

At the heart of the large counter was an entrance which, Mikan noted, led to the kitchen. It was built within the counter aka bar and she thought that very clever. It would be convenient to use the bar for small orders and use the kitchen for bigger meals. Right next to the walk-in passage that led to the kitchen was a metal staircase that spiraled up to the second floor.

The café building, itself, was also fairly round in shape and predominately surrounded by tall glass windows. She imagined the contrast in scenes these windows provided for customers: During the day, gorgeous sunlight would never directly hit anyone. Instead, they would be shielded by the high-reaching trees of many varities, bringing in an incandescent brilliance and a golden 'feel-good' feeling.  
Then, by nightfall, things would be dimmed, the source of light relying mostly on the decorative candles and its soft, comfortable glow. The stars would not be in clear sight but, along with the moon, their natural radiance will shine through and fill the atmosphere with a sense of romance...and mystery.

She was very glad that she would be apart of this café.

Quietly, she followed Narumi-sensei into the open-entry way to gain access into the bar and followed Narumi-sensei as he stepped onto the staircase and gingerly walked up. From afar, Mikan had thought the staircase would be really small and cramped since it spiraled. It was pretty wide up-close.

_It's so unique and welcoming. _Mikan was so busy observing her surroundings that she did not even notice when she trailed Narumi-sensei up the stairs and into a room with 'Employees Only' marked on the door and laid the 'man' on the long, inviting, comfy-looking couch. She dropped her uniform-filled bag off to the side.

"I am going to go fetch some food and blankets. I need you to stay here and watch him- call for me when he comes to. Adieu!" And just like that, Narumi-sensei slipped out the door. He was so in-control that even Mikan felt safe around him when she didn't even need to be.

Given nothing else to do, she began to examine the room instead. She wondered, briefly, if maybe he lived in his own café as she noticed the large television set, modern stereo system, coffee table, and the mini kitchen that sat in their own little respective corners. It was near perfect, if not perfect.

Bored, her gaze eventually found its way to the 'man' who was slightly curled and lying on his side. Wanting to be more convenient to 'watch him', like she was told, she tested the marble coffee table by putting pressure on it with her hands, believed it to be sturdy enough to carry her weight, and sat down at the edge of it. Resting her elbows on her knees, she leaned in and stared at him. At that point in time, it was so natural for her to entertain herself by playing make-belief.

_A magician from another world who came to earth to destroy it under his master's command but fell ill due to the foreign oxygen! _She chuckled- though she knew it wasn't very likely.

Her eyes wandered to the ceiling. With the next thought, she sat up straight, widened her eyes, and pointed her index finger up; play-acting that she had it right on the mark this time.

_Maybe…he's running away from an arranged marriage, seeking refuge within this homey-looking café! _Laughing at that absurd assumption, it was then that she began to ponder about his age. Her gaze dropped down to study him again.

She wondered why she had not noticed that he had a long torso. And those legs…how the heck did she not notice it before? She scolded herself quietly, convincing herself that it was because she was in 'panic mode' and did not care for the little details when all she had in mind was his safety and well-being. But now, as she had the chance to, she really did look at the little details.

His strong facial features were incredibly sharp and handsome- oddly familiar too. Like people she has seen on television. _Maybe he's a model who wanted to leave the life of fame. _It seemed to be the most realistic thing that could have happened to him that she could think of so far.

His expression was calm and peaceful since he was deep in sleep. This only left Mikan more tempted and curious to know one of two things: the colour of his eyes and his personality- the two biggest mysteries at the moment.

Mikan's eyes shifted to his jet-black, ruffled hair; questioning if his eyes were the same enthralling colour. Observing his attire of a long, dark, hooded robe that covered his body well, it was oblivious to Mikan that he was trying to hide from something or someone.

Looking back again at his visage, she analyzed it with more care.

His nose was long and a bit crooked; probably a sports-fanatic. _There goes my theory of being a model._ Male models shouldn't spoil their 'nicely built' bodies and risk the chances of bruises and injuries, she had always assumed it so. He had dark, long lashes that any self-indulging women would have sold their souls for. His full, firm mouth was meant, she supposed, for long kisses and soft words.

Not that she had actually experienced kissing him...or anyone else's kisses for that matter. Mikan's mind drifted to back to the scene when their lips nearly touched. _Not any real experience that counted. _She found herself slightly relieved that she had not lost her first, essential-to-the-average-teenage-girl, kiss to a stranger. But when she searched deeply within herself, she found that a teeny, tiny, teensy bit of her was a _tad_ crestfallen. Not wanting to acknowledge that small part, she pushed it aside.

All in all, he had the face of either some fairy-tale prince come to life, some gallant knight on a quest or maybe even a slightly tattered angel. Add that to the long, lean body, and superbly wide-palmed hands that clenched and unclenched during his sleep, he made quite the package.

_What are you thinking, Mikan! _She couldn't believe she could have such thoughts about a 'man' she had just met- unconscious at that, too!

The feeling of her sore _derrière_(bum) atop the marble coffee table hit her like hammer slamming a nail. She got up to move to the other unoccupied couch, leaned back, shut her eyes, and relaxed.

The next few moments threw Mikan off balance; it all felt like a big, confusing blur- just like eating a sandwich gone bad and accidentally drinking sour, expired milk to wash it down.

Yuck.

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_Where the hell am I? _The pain from his journey finally caught up to his body and was beginning to feel the aches and sores everywhere. His stomach, as well, had never been so empty for as long as his he could remember. His eyes shot open when he heard rustling next to him.

The girl. He had questions and she would be the one with all the answers.

Ignoring his body's discomfort and warning signs, he moved quickly as soon as he was able to think properly again. Making sure her guard was down, he leaped from his position, took hold of her shoulders, and shoved her back to the couch so that he was on top clamping her arms to her sides; using only enough power to restrain her movements. Resting his left hand beside her head for stability, he used his right to hold up one of her pig-tails,

In a threatening, low voice, he finally spoke to her, "Answer me in five seconds or I shall rip your hair off. Who are you, who sent you, and what do you want with me?"

As lucky as he was to be able to think, Mikan could not. Everything swirled in her head and she was sure she had lost a good portion of her already short life due to the sudden shock of his assault. When she was able to open her eyes again, the 'man's' face was the only thing in her vision: his eyes the deep colour of crimson red. Tempting, it was definitely.

Dangerous…he was that without a doubt as well.

"You…You're awake!" Relieved, it was all she could manage as she had difficulty focusing enough to hear his soft, threatening- yet formal-sounding, voice. He could not understand the kindness and relief in her lovely voice. Could not and would not trust it. _She hadn't meant to capture me?_

Then Mikan remembered the task at hand_ 'Call for me when he comes to'_, "Ah! Naru-" He cupped a hand over her mouth. _What's his problem? We saved him for goodness sakes! _She tried her hardest to break free when the sudden thought of losing her life was very likely in this situation…or at least one of her pig-tails anyway. You know the old saying: a girl's hair is more important than her life. (Or something like that :)

"Silence, you! And stop squirming about!" She didn't like him at all. "Damn it, you bellyacher!" _What in the world is a 'bellyacher?'__So much for wanting to know his true personality…_and man, was he strong.

"Shit. Someone is approaching." He said as his eyes came up to locate an escape route of some sort. He got off of her as soon as he spotted the window and moved towards it when the door was literally thrown open and the girl ran with tears streaming and her nose running.

"NARUMI-SENSEI!" Something else fell besides her tears and she was not going to like it one bit.

"What's going on?" Narumi-sensei couldn't believe the sight he beheld as soon as he stepped into the room. He was carrying a plate of fruits and a slice of a magnificent-smelling cheesecake in one hand and a stack of blankets and clothes in the other.

"See ya." The 'man' said as he picked up her dropped item and dangled it between his fingers. "Polka-dotted panties girl," -Yes, it was her skirt- "you forgot this." He planted his hands on the frame of the window and rested a foot to prepare to launch himself.

"Eh?" She watched it fall humiliatingly, yet again, to the ground. Unable to fully take in the embarrassment, she stood there as her bottom lip abandoned the top and fell lower than ever, trembling. Her dignity, too, was plummeting to the same depth.

Narumi-sensei moved quickly. He threw the blankets on the nearest couch carelessly, picked up Mikan's skirt and tossed it so that it landed on her head, and traveled closer to the boy before he decided to jump from the second floor window. "Wait!" Narumi-sensei called out to the boy, 'man'- whatever, "You're hungry aren't you?" He held up the delicate and heady scent of the plate of food and smirked to deliberately get on his nerves, "You know you want it."

Forgoing his better judgment, the boy sniffed in the aroma, taking a deep uninhibited breath. Hesitating, he didn't want to turn around and face that smirk he knew was plastered on the blonde's face.

Deciding that he would rather find his own way in the cruel world of reality than ever giving in to the blonde, he prepared himself to jump from the second floor. Then his stomach, almost a mind of its own, gave in and betrayed him: It growled so loud, it disguised and even covered the wailing of the crybaby-girl.

_Why? _he lectured himself, _Fine. I suppose there is simply no other way._ "Give it here." He said as he turned around and finally came face-to-face with Narumi-sensei. Narumi-sensei gave him a look of caution- warning him to play nice, or no food. His eyes narrowed at the blonde, _you've got to be kidding me. _He saw the look of seriousness, and then rolled his eyes like a child. _Damn him to hellfire. And back. _ "…Please."

Narumi-sensei was very pleased with himself and handed over the food. As soon as the boy took it, he crossed to the window and locked it with keys. Then back to the door to do the same to make sure all possible escapes for him were closed off. When Narumi-sensei dared to glance at Mikan again, she had put her skirt back on, but was bawling like a newborn and creating a small pond of tears around herself. He bit back a chuckle at her innocence, listening to her blabbing nonsense.

"WAHHH! NO ONE'S EVER GOING TO MARRY ME NOW! WAHHHH!" Head down, she had dramatically written out a will for herself.

"Now, now…stop crying, Mikan-chan." Narumi-sensei spoke in a gentle tone, but Mikan just started to pound her fists to the ground as hard as she was sobbing. This made him recline. "Having your panties seen isn't anything major!"

At long last, she lifted her head, "NOW I WON'T BE ABLE TO BECOME A WIFE!" and dropped her head to bawl some more.

Narumi-sensei saw his mistakes immediately and began trying to amend for them, "Oh, you do not have to worry about that!" He crouched down near her and whispered only quietly enough for themselves, "We'll have that boy take responsibility at that time, so-" The boy twitched just as he was putting a slice of apple in his mouth, no matter how quiet of a whisper, the boy had heard.

"NO! NO! NO!" Narumi-sensei shrugged and released a sigh (as did the boy, a sigh of relief), it seemed to look like nothing was going to stop her from making a girl-made lake. Looking at a bag near the door, an idea came to him.

Narumi-sensei gave her a very tight hug to cut off her tears- even if it meant getting his shirt drenched, "How about you go and finally try out this uniform on? I'm really curious to see how cute you will look!" He gave her his best comforting smile and gathered her uniform from her bag and handed it to her. Hoping with all his heart that she will give in.

To Narumi-sensei's delight, she did stop crying and looked blankly towards her uniform, sniffling violently. Looking up at Narumi-sensei's kind smile, she asked in between broken sobs, "Where. Is. The. Washroom?" Her eyes were as red and as swollen like a strawberry. Absolutely adorable, too.

Narumi-sensei unlocked the door and gave her directions, then locked it again when he was alone in the room with the boy. He crossed the room and sat beside him, with respectable space in between them, and planned his next move. He waited until he was finished with the cheesecake and gobbled the last of the grapes before Narumi-sensei initiated his final blow.

"Thanks, old man." _I'm only 25._ Narumi-sensei felt insulted, but didn't show it."But I must be on my way." and stood up once again.

"Nuh-uh-uh! I don't think so." _Cheeky kid…_Narumi-sensei waved his index finger in the air while shaking his head in a 'no-no' gesture,"You eat my food and then you just choose to leave like that?" Perfect. He knew exactly how to use such a good-looking kid like him now. "Not to mention the fact that I saved you when you were unconscious on the streets, almost picked up by that…oh, how should I describe her?" He made a good act of pondering deeply, "That…impossibly kind and very, _very_ lonely-looking lady." He grinned. Not exactly true- but hey, who's going to tell him otherwise?

The boy thought it out carefully- he did remember fainting and at least he wasn't captured by _them_. "Thank you for saving me. Look, I really have to set out now, so if you do not mind-"

"Ah. But I do mind." He could tell that he was a run-away from his choice of clothing and situation this morning. Narumi-sensei can be ignorant sometimes, but he was wise in his ways. What could be advantageous to himself, could also be advantageous to the boy. "Hasn't anyone taught you how to kindly repay your saviour by offering your services?"

Crap, the boy thought, this is going to be dreadful_._"How do you want me to repay you?"

_ Gotcha. _Narumi-sensei gave him another one of his deadly smirks._ He could help attract as many female costumers as Mikan can with male costumers. _As soon as the words left Narumi-sensei's lips, he had the pleasure of witnessing the look of misery and disbelief on the boy's face.

"Work for me."

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**Author's Note:** (01/30/11) I realize that many people have a problem with this particular chapter as it is very similar to the anime...that's the point. I wanted to connect it to the original series somehow. Rest assured, I've only done it in this chapter alone and have no further plans to do so with other chapters~

_Red Strings of Fate_


	3. Evil Bananas

Café D'Amour

**Author's Note: **Whatever French words may come up that does not get translated from the conversations, its translation will be beside or near it, italicized as well, but in brackets. I hope this makes it easier for you all to understand :)

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**Chapter III: Evil Bananas  
**

Standing just in front of the easily found room Narumi-sensei had indicated, Mikan stared at the bright and obvious green neon sign "Employee's Washroom" fastened on a yellow-painted door. She released a chuckle at the little notes in normal printing underneath the sign:

_Employee's Washroom_

_Girls: When nature calls, look for the green sign of heaven._

_Boys: We aim to please you. You aim, too, please._

Boy, she thought, my boss really like things that literally spring in your face. Everything was just _that_ colourful. Stepping in, she silently clicked the door shut behind her and held up her uniform.

Nudging her shoes off with one foot then the other, Mikan slid her top over her head with her hands holding tightly at the bottom of it. She hung it on the towel rack that was nearby to keep it out of dirt's way. For the first time that day, Mikan slipped her skirt off _purposely_ without an audience. Barely able to stop herself from remembering the humiliation she suffered only a few minutes ago.

The French-tailored uniform had many separate articles to it- the actual dress was the traditional black with white laces and a patch of white at the front, made to look like an apron. Turning her uniform around, Mikan unzipped the back of it so that she could step into it and slink it up her body.

Weaving her arms through the puffed short sleeves, she somehow managed to zip it closed. The body of the uniform was a built-in corset, made to be tied and tightened on both sides. Having done this before, Mikan sucked in a breath and held it for a moment while she pulled the laces tightly into a cute bow on her right and left. It fitted nicely along her soft curves and a healthy, but naturally, thin body.

Mikan was especially pleased with the little frills and laces here and there over her uniform. With the kind of money she had been living off of, she had neither the time nor the wealth to think about luxuries. Working in one of the cutest outfits she's ever set eyes on was more than enough to make Mikan, as simple and dense as she was, happy.

Tenderly, Mikan unfolded the soft black knee-high socks and slithered it over her foot and along her leg until it reached just below her knees, then did the same with her other leg. It was a well-made costume as it was meant to be a whole uniform worn on its own. The dark dress shoes were made with velvet and gave Mikan a sense of comfort as she stepped into them.

Finally, to finish the uniform off, Mikan plucked the ribbons and the signature maid's head-band to neatly tie it from beneath her hair to the top of her head; where it cleverly rested. Giving herself one look up and down the length of the washroom mirror, she gave a quick nod of approval to herself.

Ironic, she thought, how I could use the same skills I have known since I was child, but in a totally opposite role. She smiled to herself, things have changed since that ill-fated day and she'd vowed to make the best of it. Not thinking about it counted, too.

Taking her own clothes by the arm, Mikan quietly walked out the washroom and strode down the hall towards the room to show-case and receive comments on the new look. Even without opening the 'Employees Only' door, Mikan could very clearly hear the commotion coming from inside as she was situated right in front of it: "Let me get this through your head, old man." Whose voice sounded quite like the 'man' she had saved earlier, "No. Way. In. Hell." He paused between each word, emphasizing his argument.

Without the courage or the rudeness to rap loudly at the door and interrupt, Mikan pressed her ears to enhance the clarity of their voices. Well, of course, she was dreadfully curious, too.

"Now, now… is that the way to be talking with respect to your elders?" Obviously annoyed, Narumi-sensei still persisted, "Besides, not only do I need your help, I am well aware that I could be of help to you as well."

"Yeah right. What-in _this_ universe- could you do for-" For some reason, the man's voice was cut off and Mikan heard some shuffling. For the next few seconds, she couldn't hear anything but a soft mumbling that was too difficult to pick up on.

Nosier than before, Mikan set her clothes atop the banister, freeing her hands so that she could press them on the door. Straining and urging her ear to work harder, she leaned against it. She heard some more shuffling, movement, and a moment's silence.

Like Mikan was caught stealing another cookie from the cookie jar as a child, she stumbled forward unexpectedly and was fortunate to discover a soft landing. It would've been like something out of a romance novel, and normally, Mikan would feel her limbs melting in the sensation; being wrapped in the arms by the handsome man of her dreams.

However, Mikan felt herself go stiff and slightly frightened as she caught herself in her own fantasy and gazed up into the fierce and powerful scorching eyes of a not-so-happy-looking man.

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Narumi-sensei had seen and sensed Mikan eavesdropping as her shadow was cast in the small space provided under the door, her pressed ears and hands had put just enough pressure that the door rocked back and forwards slightly. His eyes had also caught sight of something bright yellow and oddly-shaped on the floor. The kid probably tossed the banana peel on the floor to purposely get on his nerves. He decided to ignore it for now as more important matters were at hand.

Holding in a giggle for her virtuousness, he leaned into the kid's ear and whispered, "You are clearly tired of hiding from people, aren't you? Who would think that you have decided to get a job as a waiter in a newly opened, French café anyway?" The boy's eyes narrowed as he lapsed into silence, pondering deeply about it. It was true; working was, believe it or not, something entirely new to him. He knew the people chasing after him would never think to see if he was up to something anymore out of place.

Hell, he himself had never given it a thought. Besides, he admitted, he knew quite a few phrases in French as well. With the kind of ego he had been encouraged and allowed to grow up with, he's already assumed he could do anything if he wanted to. Pride and acceptance compelled his arrogant words to form: "Oi. I have an idea," he whispered back in the same light tone. He, too, had taken note of the girl's presence, "How about you make me an official employee in your little dinky café?"

Ignoring his comment on his own self-achieved café, Narumi-sensei grinned widely at his child-like behaviour. This is going to be _très intéressant, _ne? Narumi-sensei believed it will eventually prove to be true. "Deal." Then added as an after-thought, "Open the locked door for our dear Mikan-chan won't you?" Having established that he was going to work for him now, the boy thought it wouldn't be too big a sacrifice to start obeying now.

Even if _he_ was the one who was used to issuing orders.

Stalking towards the entrance with one hand dangling while the other stuffed in his pocket, he stared at the bright wood door for an instant, grasped the knob, and swung it open with gusto.

Lightning reflexes were what caught her clumsy fall. With a small yelp that escaped Mikan's lips, she fell forward into his arms.

Pft. Damsels, he thought unpleasantly, always have to bring trouble wherever they go. His free arm, the one that turned the knob, had snaked its way around her waist to support her.

"Ah." was all she could manage as the boy recognized the shock registered on her face. It took a moment's time for her to organize her thoughts. Though there was another expression she had on- but he didn't quite catch it in time. "Ah! Thank you!" Shuffling, Mikan tried to stabilize herself on her own two feet. I mustn't blush, she scolded herself, I positively _must not_!

Having nothing to do with his hand now, he jammed it in his other pocket. His eyes, taking in the full sight of Mikan, were filled with pure male appreciation.

"Mikan-chan!" Narumi-sensei strode towards the two teenagers with a very bright and hopeful gleam in his gaze, "_Vous regardez absolument belle!_"

Without any knowledge of French in all her seventeen years of life, Mikan could only have one single, simple response: "Come again?"

"You look absolutely beautiful." The boy spoke it dully and unexpectedly, causing Mikan to whirl around at the surprising comment.

"Why…I...well…E-to" Naïve and all, Mikan had thought the comment was genuinely from the boy. Shades of pinks and reds had crept to her cheeks, no matter how toughly she fought against them.

"My! You-" Natsumi-sensei never thought about it, but during their short conversation, the boy had never mentioned his name, "What's your name, boy? Unless you preferred to be called 'you' and 'boy' all the time."

"Natsume Hyuu-" He caught himself and stopped short. He seemed to falter a bit; like he forgot his own name. Natsume decided not to lie. It might be troublesome for him to remember in the future anyway. "Just call me Natsume."

"So ah…Natsume-kun, ne? My! You know French!" Narumi-sensei smiled in admiration and delight. This boy was definitely going to be a beneficial feature for his café.

"Um. Yes..." He quickly decided to just take advantage of the situation, "I was born in France, though my parents are Japanese."

"Wah?" Mikan was totally lost, "How did you come to the conclusion that he knew French, Narumi-sensei?"

"He had understood, 'You are absolutely beautiful' when I spoke it in French."

"Eh? So then…you didn't actually mean- oh." Just realizing that Natsume had only _translated_ for whatever Natsumi-sensei had said, Mikan forced a smile for Narumi-sensei as another taste of humiliation was hand-fed to her, "Thank you Narumi-sensei! I'm grateful to you for having such wonderful taste in clothes!"

Natsume stifled a laugh at her stupidity as she cast a death glare in his direction. Narumi-sensei had amusement dancing in his blue eyes as he observed the two teenagers. Not to mention two very _valuable_ waiter and waitress already in his capable hands for the advantage of his new café.

Yes, Narumi-sensei thought pleasantly, this will work out exceptionally well. His café was near ready to open.

"Okay kids, I want you here tomorrow at 6:30am, do not be late again Mikan-chan." Mikan winced as he gave her a wink; he's never going to let her live down _that _particular humiliation. "And I'll have your uniform tailored and ready for you by then as well, Natsume-kun."

"Pardon?" asked Mikan preposterously, "I think I heard wrong, sensei…you have a uniform for this _guy_ here"-she pointed an accusing finger at him-"…_why_?"

Natsume threw another long stare of great satisfaction up and down the length of Mikan. Did I mention a smirk tugging at his lips? "I presume that you are not considering on putting me in a dress like that. They are much better to speculate at than to wear, in my case."

"Who asked you?" responded Mikan rudely as she made a futile attempt to cover herself up. It was quite nerve-wrecking to be gaped at from someone who almost slaughtered one of her pigtails.

Narumi-sensei fought the urge to smile, "I think I forgot to point out a small little detail to you, Mikan-chan."

Fancying her previous reaction, Natsume continued, "Hm…I suggest you cut another inch or so off her skirt." This earned him a second death-intended glare.

"Shut it, Attempted-Pig-tail-Murderer," murmured Mikan in the most menacing voice she could muster.

"Make me, polka-dotted-panties-girl." Natsume whispered back, not the least bit affected by her cruel tone. This, again, earned him a third death-full-intended glare- but with the nice delightful surprise of Mikan's balled fist; another effort to threaten or frighten him, in vain.

"As you know, you were the only one who I accepted to work in my café out of all the applicants I had received." Truthfully, there really were few other applicants other than Mikan's as the café wasn't well-known, yet, outside of the small area. Narumi-sensei just saw no harm in making her feel special.

Mikan nodded faintly as she pounced on Natsume after he cleverly provoked her with the 'you are no match for me' smirk. When she was almost near enough to reach for his neck with the goal of choking in mind, he shifted slightly in an experienced way and totally avoided her assault.

"But I just talked it over with Natsume-kun, and…" he had to pause to shuffle out their chaotic way. They were really going at it: Mikan, kicking and hitting fruitlessly; Natsume, evading and eluding her attacks effortlessly.

Quite entertaining, thought both men.

"Uh-huh." Was all Mikan could manage as she threw a knee-kick in his direction. Natsume traveled backwards to some extend, and skillfully knocked it down with the palm of one hand as his other came in contact to block one of her sneaky punches.

"…And as you have seen, my café isn't exactly small either…" He wasn't exactly sure how Mikan would take the news and didn't really know the best way to tell her.

"Right." Her new objective was to somehow trip him, pin him down, and make him beg for mercy- like in those wrestling shows she has watched occasionally.

Of course, that didn't work out too well as Natsume leaped at every endeavour Mikan directed to his feet. Once, as he did this, he had soared over Mikan while using one hand to balance himself on her head and landed softly behind her. She turned around and gaped at him with the most humorous expression, "How the hell did you do that?" She shook the curiosity away, then went back to ineffectually throwing sneak-attacks and kicks. "Stay still, will 'ya?"

Natsume stayed silent, his eyes watching her every move. Grasping every enjoyable opportunity to glimpse up her maid's uniform and trail along her lovely moving figure. Her being able to move in such clothing was mind-boggling...Mind-boggling enough to make it _very _tempting to reach out and hold her.

Now Narumi-sensei had to grin at the children, "And since Natsume-kun is already an expert in the exquisite language of French, I've decided to hire another waiter! Now you two can become the best of friends." The last part wasn't meant to be sarcastic, but that's the way it sounded as he inspected the fighting.

"Mhm- Say _what_?" Now Narumi-sensei had Mikan's full attention as soon as she whipped her head around. She stopped all her useless movements and stood stiff, sending Narumi-sensei her gaping expression of shock.

"Mikan-chan, watch out!"

As she took a few steps closer to Narumi-sensei to question his sanity, she slipped. An unseen yellow banana peel appeared to have been waiting for her.

Natsume saw this as a chance to finally cave in to the 'oh-so-strong temptation'- and it _would_ save her a great deal of pain. He came up behind her on speedy footing and had a respective mind to simply catch her falling backwards.

But, of course...that was not what happened.

Mikan, at that instant, decided to use her reflexes. She flipped her body around so that instead of fatefully landing on her gluteus maximus, she would have her hands and knees to break her fall. Fully unaware of Natsume coming up behind her, her hands came in contact with his chest while he slid his arms around her in the best way he could in such a situation. Her clumsy slip had so much power that even Natsume did not expect such speed and weight to literally befall on him. Surprised and unable to stabilize himself, he fell backwards, landing on the hard ground while Mikan descended down on top of him. At least _she'd_ have a fairy-tale ending, he thought bitterly.

He was beginning to mutter a curse as the pain of his journey hit him cruelly from being connected to the hard ground; but he could not hear his own voice. His incapability to curse was due to his lips being sealed.

Sealed in a lip-lock with Mikan.

Her fall made her face leveled with his, and made it possible for her to reach his lips with her own. He gazed into her wide, innocent chocolate eyes as alien feelings abducted his senses and conquered his world, his everything. He knew, beyond doubt and somewhere deep within his mentality, that it was impossible to ever experience such a foreign, yet desirable feeling from any other.

"Well," spoke Narumi-sensei out loud and out of the picture, "Maybe you'd be even better than best friends." And allowed himself the joy of grinning to the unexpectedly successful and unintentional match-making.

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_Red Strings Of Fate_


	4. FlySwatting Guest

Café D'Amour

**Chapter IV: Fly-Swatting Guest  
**

_Ding ding!_

Ah, another customer, thought Mikan pleasantly as she moved to the entrance to welcome them. She couldn't imagine a day when she'd get tired of those 'dings'!

"Irashaiamasen!" Her smile came naturally as the two customers pushed through the circular-moving doors. "Table for- Hey!" Her enthusiasm left as soon as it came.

While shoving Mikan to the side nonchalantly, Natsume approached the couple and took the pleasure of seating them himself, "Table for two?"

Mikan was furious- three or two days ago, Natsume had had no clue whatsoever about what he was supposed to be doing. He wasn't even a people person. Damn, he picks up fast. The customers were afraid of him because of his mean, scrunched up face and now, he's actually using it to his advantage to charm them with a dangerous-mysterious-boy charade!

It's despicable! she thought furiously.

The couple cast an interested look at the two before they nodded politely at Natsume, "Yes, please."

Natsume grabbed two menus nearby on the host's stand and gestured towards one side of the café with his free hand, "This way."

About to pass Mikan, she couldn't resist throwing_ something_ back at his face. With her index and middle finger moving from her narrowed eyes to Natsume, she gave him her most toxic 'I'm watching you' hand motion she could muster while mouthing the words. When he was close enough to whisper for her ears only, he made sure she would regret giving him _anything._ "I'm looking forward to you watching me," And surely, a smirk spread wide on his handsome features while horror struck on Mikan's, "because I enjoy watching you _all_ the time."

As soon as Natsume walked by her, she quickly retreated behind the semi-spherical counter, picked up the damp cloth that was always at the side, slapped it back down on the counter, and began wiping the surface of the counter with violent strokes.

_Damn him. He's learning new ways to be a better waiter every single damned day. Three days since I've worked here with this guy stealing all the fun work to do around here! Damn, damn, damn!  
_

"E-to, Mikan-chan, I'm glad you're so…uh…_passionate _about cleanliness, but um…please wipe my counter-top with more..." Narumi-sensei flinched slightly when Mikan's angered expression shot up and was directed towards him instead of the counter, "care?"

_Damndamndamndamndamnda—Oh!_

She gave him an apologetic smile that relieved him instantly, "Ah, sorry Narumi-sensei. I will wipe it with more care." Narumi-sensei took the chance to escape to the kitchen—which was located right beside the set of stairs— for safety and to personally prepare food. Feeling the defeat, Mikan slumped and leaned on the counter for support, her anger had drained most of her oomph. With nothing better to do, Mikan's attention wandered around the spacious, nearly empty café.

It didn't take long before her mind drifted back to that disastrous moment when she was robbed of her innocence. Back to the very instant that…that _fiend_ dared to keep hold and actually _grasp_ her waist! And until that moment, she had never known how sensitive she was in that area. The contact almost felt ticklish…almost. It was the kind of feeling that sent delicious shivers from side to side, end to end. Something she could get used to...but would _definitely not_ allow it of herself, of course.

No one, she thought, _no one _had ever touched her waist like that before and it shocked her to find that she liked it. The new sensation it brought to her...deny it all she could, but she still wanted to explore that phenomenon. Mikan found herself to very nearly desire to relive that incident again; that is the aftermath of touching bodies…and of lips.

"Oi, you are drooling, Polka."

Mikan sprung up from her position and found herself face-to-face with her arch foe. "What?" Automatically, her fingers flew to the corners of her mouth, "You're such a lying beast."

With his elbows propped on the counter, Natsume leaned in until he was close enough to catch a whiff of Mikan's cheap perfume, "Those pet names you give me…" Her perfume, however cheap, was like a drug; every second of it drew him into addiction, "...they really turn me on." Smirk.

Instinctively, Mikan's eyes rolled in annoyance as she jabbed an accusing finger at his chest, pushing him back lightly, "A guy like you would even find math class a big turn on." She walked away, hoping to find something—anything to do rather than speak to the likes of him.

She amused him—infinitely, "Well now, how did you know that?" She turned away after releasing a dramatic sigh, attempting to escape the pointless conversation. "Say…I-"

_Ding ding!_

"Saved by the bell. I'll get that this time." Mikan stuck out her tongue to make an attempt to distract him so she could make it to the door before Natsume did. It didn't really work, but he thought he'd be nice just this once. He turned around to watch, leaning his weight on the counter with his arms crossed at his chest.

"Irashaiamasen! Table for—" Natsume looked up in suspicion; he was standing right where he was and not shoving her aside this time. _So why did she shut up? _The next thing he heard made it almost impossible to resist sending his hands straight to his ears and to wince at the same time.

"HO-TA-RUUU!" Natsume's first reaction was a raised eyebrow.

Horizontal—yes, her body was indeed parallel to the ground leaving a very appealing view of her flower-printed underwear. Then he saw saw the big picture for what it truly was—it was amazing, really: She was soaring, almost floating through the air like time held still for just that second. Her arms were out-stretched to a girl of soft lilac eyes and hair not quite as dark as Natsume's.

Mikan's face was too goofy to describe.

Remarkably, Mikan had somehow reversed her position in mid-air, with one leg jutted out towards the girl in a kicking pose. Her goofy face was replaced with one of fury. "…YOU BIG, FAT MORON! JERK! STUPID-HEAD!"

Just as alarming and unforeseen, the girl whipped out a large square-shaped…_Fly-swatter? _thought Natsume. The girl's smiling eyes were filled with wickedness, though her mouth hadn't moved an inch. And when she spoke, it was as if she was answering Natsume's unspoken question, "Mikan-Swatter."

Man, she swung that thing without hesitation, no second-thoughts whatsoever! Judging from how far that girl pulled the 'Mikan-Swatter' back to launch it forward at Mikan, she would've been sent to another country, probably Timbuktu. You should never underestimate Mikan, though, because she does learn from her mistakes once in awhile.

It was obvious to Natsume that Mikan has had a previous encounter with the 'Mikan-Swatter' since as soon as Mikan and the swatter came into contact, she grabbed the edges of it with her hands and legs so that she hung there like a sticky blob instead of getting smacked with it. "This is new." The girl spoke monotonously while she jiggled the swatter around in an effort to get Mikan to lose grip, "Why did it take you ten years to figure this out?" Natsume couldn't help but think that this girl was curiously familiar. He didn't _want_ to think she was familiar, though. She emitted quite the intimidating aura.

Mikan gripped the edges of the swatter and peeled her face off—it was patterned with squares that were pressed firmly on her skin. "You're horrible, Hotaru! You've left Japan all summer and you come back just so you could finish me off!" She took a full minute to keep her feet balanced after she plucked herself off and choked back on sobs as she continued, struggling to form her one single sentence, "I've. Missed. You like. Hell. Damn it!"

"So this is where you have been. Good thing I planted that tracker on you so I could find you." She took a swift glance around the café before she turned to Mikan, "Did you change streets or cardboard boxes? Oh, nice upgrade on the clothing, Mikan, I see you have found an alternate solution to homelessness and bad taste." Effectively ignoring Mikan, the girl pressed a button on the swatter and it transformed into a miniature. She put this in her pocket—for later.

"I've never lived on the streets!" Tracker? Mikan couldn't keep steady and gave way to her legs. Sliding to the floor and on her knees, she whimpered, not wanting to disturb what customers were still in the café, "You should have told me when you were coming back instead of using that stupid turtle mail you've been using since we were seven! Do you have any idea how SLOW that stupid thing is?"

Hotaru ignored Mikan again and walked past her, "Well, well…what do we have here?" She walked up to Natsume and tilted her head back so that she could see his face. "And who might you be?" She asked, even while knowing exactly who he was.

It was when that one corner of her mouth tugged up in amusement that had him recognize her instantly. "Come with me." Natsume grabbed her wrist, determined to speak with her alone.

She stood her ground. Hotaru Imai had always done things her way. "No." She had no intention of stopping her way of life. Not now, not ever. "You are quite rude, aren't you?"

Natsume glared down at her as she clearly challenged his authority. Damn these women, he thought bitterly. "You have no choice." He, too, had always had things go his way—though he did not have it that way because he earned it, like Hotaru.

Hotaru stared back in the same boldness, "Of course I do, and my choice is a _no_."

"Stop!" Mikan had squeezed in—noticing how close and how dangerous the two were getting- "You!"-She poked Natsume's chest- "Only I'm allowed to attempt to harrass Hotaru, and You!"-She pointed at Hotaru- "Apologize to me this second!"

The attention of both Hotaru and Natsume had stayed on Mikan's out-of-breath expression for a fraction of a second before Hotaru eyed Natsume again and spoke up, "Outside?" Natsume showed only a nod of approval and followed her outside, leaving Mikan standing there alone.

"Hey!" Mikan felt the defeat sink in once again while she took a few steps after them and stopped, "Someone has to watch the café!" She heard the entrance's pitiful 'ding,' a sound that used to give her joy, signaling that they had left and hadn't cared because it's her responsibility now. She let out a long sigh and tended to what customers there were in the café.

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"You've left your father in quite the problematic predicament," Hotaru studied Natsume's profile as she continued; he grew a great many inches since she last saw him. "Isn't it lucky for you that you were not ever exposed to the media?" Hotaru thought that Natsume's uniform matched him well: a white dress shirt, black dress pants, a clean-cut vest, and a red tie. It was entertaining enough just to see such a change.

Royalty to servant.

Natsume summed up what he knew of her, "Hotaru Imai, head of everything to do with technology. You have quite the reputation where I had grown up." They had met once, years ago when their parents had had a dispute to settle and several contracts to sign.

"You are known to everyone who's in any small or large business or country, Natsume—" She was not aware of how close he was—or when his hand came to cup her mouth unexpectedly.

"Do not say it." She looked at him suspiciously, closed her eyes in comprehension, and pointed to where his hand was so that he'd remove it.

"Does she know?"

Natsume knew exactly who she was talking about. "No. Like you said, I have never shown my face in public before this." He considered how much to tell her as she and Mikan were clearly good friends- however twisted their frendship may be. "I have no desires to return—I mislead Polka." And Blondie, he thought.

Hotaru's eyebrow raised at the nickname. "Whatever. It _is_ your life. I won't say a word." She looked through the tall glass behind her and spotted Mikan chatting happily with a couple. "Do me a favour and tell Mikan that I won't be at school for the first month or so." It was their last year together as high school students, and she regretted it just a little for not ever being there for a whole, solid year. Not even once. "She is incredibly thick skulled and nearly brainless." She said this more to herself than to Natsume.

"I figured that out not too long after I met her myself." His smile was small, but genuine. It was obvious to him that Imai had a very special place for Mikan in her heart. "You are not quite like the rumours at all." Yes, he agreed with himself, seeing her like this made her seem a great deal more human.

"I'm almost sorry that I can't say the same," she turned back to him with her famous pleased, yet evil smile. "I give you permission to tease her all you want in my absence."

She side-stepped him and tip-toed so that she could whisper in his ear, "But you would best not do anything to hurt her. Prince or not, I can- and will- make your life a living hell."

Unwillingly, he shivered from the ice-cold quality of her voice and figured that a response was unnecessary. He listened to the soft 'click-clack' of her practical, black, business pumps until they faded completely into the distance. All he could think about was that his impression of Hotaru Imai hardly changed since the first time they met.

Impassive, cold, and fearsome.

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After a good walk around the café, Natsume had come back inside. He caught sight of Mikan quickly, carrying a tray with food on top to a group of male teenagers.

"Here's your food! E-to…" She tried to use her free hand to grab her writing pad from the pocket to see what belonged to whom, "_Soufflé au__ Fromage_- Oh, it's for you…" Mikan set a bowl down in front of one of the customers. Natsume had heard 'So flee, all fly-mages!' and found it hard to not burst out laughing. He made a sudden decision to walk over to both help her and show off his French when compared to hers. "Next is, um," she squinted at the notepad, "ah-HEY!"

Clattering noises were made as the tray crashed to the floor and plates shattered into a million pieces. Beautifully-arranged food were now unidentifiable mush on the ground. Mikan's hands were busy holding her skirt down. She had felt a hand slide up her leg, "Who the hell—"

"How _dare_ you touch her?" Natsume had snatched the wrist of the perpetrator and was glowering at him. Narumi-sensei peeked out of the kitchen to inspect the loud commotion.

"Hey, we're paying customers!" Cried a teenager from the same group.

"Yeah! What proof do you have that I touched her anyway?" Natsume tightened his grip on his wrist.

"_My eyes_." Natsume said this through gritted teeth.

Narumi-sensei stepped in. "A-re, a-re, look at this mess! Natsume, Mikan, head on upstairs, I will take care of this." Narumi-sensei shooed them towards the stairs and he began picking up after the mess, "I'm terribly sorry, I'm sure this was all a misunderstanding. How about a dessert on the house?"

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"Ah…well…um…" Mikan didn't know what to say. The natural and simple 'thank you' seemed like a bare-footed walk over burning coal when faced with someone as angry as Natsume. Here goes nothing, she thought weakly, "Thank—"

"Save it." He didn't want to hear it. He hadn't done anything to deserve thanks because that bastard ended up getting away with touching her. "I'm leaving early. Tell Blondie."

Casually, Natsume untied the apron around his waist and tossed it to the couch. He would come back later, of course. He and Narumi-sensei had come to an understanding about having Natsume live with him in the café since he had no where else to go. Unsure how to respond, Mikan just stood there, staring at Natsume's retreating figure down the steps of the stairs. When Natsume turned on the uniquely spiraled twist of the stairs, she caught the rage burning in those ruby eyes.

They were just a shade short from the appalling colour of blood.

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* * *

_Red Strings Of Fate_


	5. Blondie Style Crime

Café D'Amour

**Chapter V: Blondie-Style Crime**

By the ninteenth day, word had gotten out about the impressive food and services of Café D'Amour.

Oh, and about the 'hot waiter,' too.

"More water please!"

"Coming!"

"We'd like to order now!"

"Be right there!"

Carrying a tray with my right hand, I stacked another cup of water on top with several other meals as I went around to tables filled with squealing females.

Not that there weren't any males. But if you asked me about what I see, I'd just say: girls, women, and plenty of females.

"Kyaa!" One of the teenagers squealed, annoyingly, might I add. "There he is!" I rolled my eyes when my back was turned to the crowd.

Yup. There stood Natsume in all his glory. While I was working my butt off, he was happily making small talk with every female in the room. Save me, of course. It was _so _obvious that he was avoiding me like a plague, he wouldn't even make eye contact. I pulled out my writing pad and pen from my pocket. "Hi! What would you like to order?"

"E-to…" Another girl from the same group gave her encouraging nudges.

"Mhm?" I forced myself to be patient with inaudible foot-tapping.

A blush formed on her cheeks as she touched her fingers together in nervousness, "Could we have the guy-waiter serve us, please?"

I resisted the urge to groan. Will this question ever cease to be asked?

"As you can see," I pointed in his direction with the pen in my hand and the girls' eyes followed, "He's busy. So what'll it be?"

Their shoulders sagged in obvious disappointment. I told them about the lunch deals and took their orders but I might as well have been invisible for all the attention they paid me. Walking back to the kitchen, I shouted the list of food for Narumi-sensei to prepare and began adding up the receipt. Natsume happened to be near the cashier and I couldn't help but to overhear him.

He gave the girls one of his devilish grins. "_Excusez-moi, mes chéries_" How did he roll his tongue like that? "_Aimez-vous un autre café?_" The girls almost made a 'gaga' sound and stupidly tried to reply in English. _(Excuse me, my ladies/would you like another coffee?) _Hello-o? English and French are different, people! Even I can tell the difference.

I attempted saying exactly what he said under my breath. How hard could it be? "Excusee-mu may char...cher…cherry? May Cherries? No, no, that's not right!" Frustrated, I gave up. Either the language is difficult, or I'm beyond hope. I'd place my bets on the second one.

"Mikan-chan!" I heard Narumi-sensei call my name as he rang the little bell from the kitchen, which meant food was ready to be served. Sighing, I printed the receipt out, placed it on top of an empty money tray, and headed into the kitchen.

As much as I wished for this day to be over, I had something to look forward to: a job interview lined up for tonight. If that went successfully, then I'd have enough by the end of this year to not only indulge myself a little, but to go to prom! I could very nearly see it: My perfect night, my perfect dress, and my perfect date, Hotaru. It was...what was the word again?

Oh yeah.

Perfect.

Naturally, those thoughts alone would've brightened my mood, but occasionally seeing Natsume flirting with teenage girls bothered me in a way I didn't want to think about. If I thought about it, I'd start thinking about that dumb kiss. If I started thinking about that dumb kiss, I'd feel hurt because of the way he treated it...like it was nothing.

Hold up...Why exactly would I feel hurt in the first place? I mean, I bet that jerk kisses girls all the time. Yeah. Of course he does. Yeah...yeah! Blonde, blue-eyed bombshells like the one he's talking to right now. Yeah...bombshells...where did I even learn that word from? Oh, great. Now they're laughing like he actually said something charming or funny. I swear, if he just made a smart-ass remark about what a bad kisser I am, I'll-

...

See? This is exactly why I'll have to avoid him and think about other things.

Okay, reality check. To be in the same room as that jerk and to think about something entirely different would be impossible to achieve. Then there's just one way to go: stop thinking completely.

If I can't do that then when I do think, I'll try to think about pretty clothes- or even better- Hotaru.

"Think happy thoughts, Mikan." I told myself, and chuckled at the weakness of it. I said it to myself again, with more determination, "Happy thoughts."

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I have never before this moment worked this hard in my entire life.

Was this what all common folks did for a living? What an incredibly _hectic _life-style! Who is able to work like this for hours at a time and still stay perfectly sane?

Well, I would not entirely categorize this as 'working' per se, but talking to so many women was increasingly overwhelming. After conversing with several adolescents of and around my age, I have noticed that they spoke very informally and with contractions. I will start to mimic their way of speech so that I will not appear to be conspicuous.

Other than that, I had gotten used to speaking in French and being _polite_ for long periods of time, which is a _seriously_ _big_ improvement on my part.

I felt a tug on my pants. I looked down to find a little girl with bouncy pig-tails and her index finger resting on her bottom lip, looking like she was lost. "Where's mommy?"

"_Donnez-moi une__ description—_" I stopped myself, almost forgetting that I was talking to a five-year-old, "Describe her."  
(_Give me a description-)_

I must have forgotten her age again because she started to tear up. "Big brother scarwy!" Ah, my charming-working-facial-expression slipped again. Honestly, it is- I mean "it's"- so hard to be nice, look nice, and even harder to _stay_ nice.

I winced slightly as she pouted and cried out. What do I do to prevent her from crying? What was it women always…ah! "Have you lost weight?"

It seemed to do the trick for a minute as the girl stopped crying...she looked at me with confusion evident on her features and then...

She just went back to crying all over again! For the love of—"There, there, don't cry." She picked up the girl in an easy manner and held her in her arms, gently brushing her thumb along the child's smooth, damp skin. "Tell onee-san what's wrong." Polka cooed like a mother around the little girl and smiled sweetly.

Sniffling, the child pointed at me, "Big brother scarwy!"

Before she could hold back, I heard her giggle. Even though she was speaking to me, her eyes stayed steady on the child. "You sure have a way with children." Polka turned away with the child resting against her hip. "I think I saw your mommy this way."

How in the world had she managed to be so composed around such a bustling toddler? Why is she not trying to bite my head off? Who does she think she is anyway, smiling that way, with her rosy cheeks and slightly disheveled hair, looking so...I shake my head. There are no words to describe how appealing and attractive she looks to me. It is a bit confusing considering the fact she's not my usual type. Practically the exact opposite actually...so what is it about her that I find so...irresistible? And why had I not gotten her attention anyway? She should be looking at me, not that child!

Back-up.

Why did I expect her to? I dragged a hand through my hair, irritated. I thought that the more I am away from own home, the easier I forget my identity. I have got to find a way to stop this. Just as I was thinking that, a trio of teenage boys walked in.

I will get around to finding a way later. First thing's first: serve all male customers.

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The sun had set, throwing in various mixtures of undreamed of tints, shades, and tones across the sky; like passionate paint splattered on canvas. Trees stirred in one direction at a time with the wind as its guide. Opposite to the setting sun, the eerie luminescent glow of the moon was already visible. Hovering clouds traveled lazily above the earth, giving way to the stars that would claim their place in the night sky. Every change during twilight drew out the mysteriousness and the magic of all evenings.

Narumi-sensei sat at the bottom step of the stairs, calculating the day's profits. He was very pleased. He didn't think that he would have made so much in almost no time. Nonetheless, he knew that most of the credit went to his very competent employees.

When he wasn't in the kitchen, he'd be at the bar. When he wasn't needed at the bar, he'd help set up tables or to clear them. When Mikan came by to tell him that they could handle it, he would have nothing to do but to observe the café.

He found it _très amusante_. (_Very amusing.)_

The number one thing he noticed? His waiter and waitress were avoiding each other like their life depended on it. Natsume was personally waiting on tables where the male sex dominated-despite their objections-and Mikan was continuously putting on a false front. Narumi-sensei caught her rubbing her cheeks near the end of the much forced smiling.

He was closing down the café a little earlier today because he had an errand to run. It involved delicious beans.

Lots of them.

By eight o'clock that evening, Mikan stacked the last of the chairs on top of the tables. "Okay, I'm finished here, Narumi-sensei." Mikan hurried up the stairs. Mid-way, she stopped, making sure she was allowed to leave. "It's okay if I leave now, right?" Narumi-sensei gave her the thumbs-up and she raced up the stairs to gather her belongings and to change.

Narumi-sensei spotted Natsume, hands in pockets, standing near the windows looking up at the evening sky. That boy never did a thing when it came to cleaning up. Clearing and wiping tables were things Narumi-sensei has never seen him do. Give him a girl, Natsume would charm her. Give him a slice of cheesecake, Natsume would gobble it up. But if you give him a dish cloth, he wouldn't go near it; much less touch it.

Acknowledging the fact that Natsume has never done any dirty work in his life, Narumi-sensei made it his business that he did. Maybe he'd even make it his business that his employees got along. After all, happy employees make happy customers, right? The gears in Narumi-sensei's 'evil-doing' side of his brain jumped to a start. Yes, this'll work out very well. His lips curved.

He walked over to Natsume, "Natsume-kun, I won't be coming back to the café until tomorrow morning, so you're going to have to watch it for me."

Natsume resisted asking him what he would possibly do until morning. Better off not knowing, he thought. "Sure."

Narumi-sensei turned around, making it look like he was retrieving some things for his trip. He waited for Mikan to come back downstairs before he continued, "I'll walk you out, Mikan-chan." She smiled politely and followed him as they made their way to the front door. _Still ignoring each other, huh?_ "Natsume-kun, remember to lock the doors."

Preoccupied, Natsume answered absently, "Sure."

"And to turn off the lights."

"Sure."

Narumi-sensei let Mikan walk out first. Then, when he was nearly out, he called back over his shoulder, "Don't forget to wash the dishes. If it's not done by morning tomorrow…" Narumi-sensei didn't know what he could threaten him with, "…I'll be watching you do it for the next month. The _whole _of next month." And out he went, satisfied with his improvised threat.

"Sure." Hearing but not listening, Natsume continued to stare.

As soon as Narumi-sensei stepped outside, he beckoned Mikan to him, "Mikan-chan, I know your interview might go on late into the night, but would you be a dear and come back to check on the café just to make sure everything's in order?" She nodded. Hearing, but not quite listening as well.

No one questioned his motives and that's just the way he liked it.

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

* * *

_Red Strings Of Fate_


	6. Yellow Bananas and Gloves

Café D'Amour

**Chapter VI****: Yellow Bananas and Gloves  
**

Only when all traces of the sun had disappeared- and after a good nap- had he recalled what he had to do.

"He said to…lock the doors." He moved to the circular-entrance, bent over and pulled the lock down. "And to turn off the lights. Will handle that later. What else did he say to do?" Natsume remembered there had been a third order, one longer than the first two. "Wash the dishes or else…" His face would have blanched had he not hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. _I am a fool_. Just thinking about dirty dishes gave him the heeby-jeebies.

One night or one month. It was also a no-brainer.

He gulped. "I guess I have no choice but to do it now. I hate not having choices." His last comment was very automatic and shocking at the time as he recalled his conversation with Hotaru Imai. He sounded like...a hyp...a _hyp..._he dared not think the word.

Very hesitantly, Natsume took his time walking towards the kitchen. From the open doorway, he saw the wall he'd have to walk around to get to the sink. He braced himself for what he would see next as he has never set foot in there before. Slowly, he walked into the bar and circled around the wall to the kitchen. His eyes nearly popped out. Unconsciously, he loosened his tie, tugged on his collar, and dragged his hand through his hair. Little drops of sweat skimmed his skin.

Oh, it wasn't as bad as he imagined it. The kitchen was, in actuality, quite nice and tidy. The counters gleamed with cleanliness and everything was put away in cupboards and drawers.

Everything except the mountain high of plates stacked right next to the shiny metal sink. Natsume released a noisy groan. "What in the world do I do with those?" he heard himself say out loud. With a hand on his hip, he dragged the other down his face, unbelieving. Spotting the bright yellow gloves laid over the edge of the sink and the counter, he grimaced. He knew what to do with gloves, but not a thing about using them to _wash _dishes.

As he slid them on, he thought about how Blondie's hands once occupied them and groaned again. "This," talking to himself seemed to be the only support he had, "is disgusting." Sauntering towards the sink at an extremely sluggish pace, he stared at the plates, bowls, and utensils. Some were in the sink, some were beside it. "The gloves are disgusting enough, but this," the smell caught him off guard and made him feel nauseated, "_est incroyablement brut_!" (_is incredibly gross!) _

Taking a deep breath in, he courageously reached out for the smallest thing there was: a thin knife. "That was not- I mean- 'wasn't,' so bad." Natsume held it cautiously by the handle and threw it to his other hand. "It's not that dirty. Why does it have to be washed?" On the blade of said knife, was only a delicate line of frosting. Finding the drawer of utensils, he prepared to put it away when he heard a loud rap outside of the kitchen.

He jumped, almost dropping the knife on his poor feet. Instead, he gripped the handle even tighter—a weapon now—and set out to find the source of the mysterious rapping.

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"Terrible."

Mumbling, Mikan stomped out of the building. "As soon as I walk in, he looks me up and down and said, _'terrible!'_" She mimicked the interviewer's arrogant expression as she repeated his words, "_'She's not cut out for show bizz. Next!'_" Clutching her purse and bag, she headed in a direction without thinking and threw her hands up in frustration, "Agh! What a big-headed, haughty, _condescending_ man!" She literally spitted the words out as she kicked a nearby garbage can, regretting it dearly as she held her sore foot.

The location of the studio also happened to be in close proximity to her home. Without the money to take public transportation of any sort, Mikan decided it was better to have jobs that were in the vicinity or in convenient walking distance. Storming down the sidewalk, Mikan wrapped her arms around herself more tightly as the night weather crept alongside. The day was just bad luck altogether.

Fast walking, she had not noticed when she passed her home or why. When the café was in clear view, she stopped and looked around her- remembering the reason of the visit. She came because Narumi-sensei asked a favour of her. She sighed, thinking about how kind he was to accept her when she's such a clumsy girl. "He wanted me to check that everything's in order…" Her brows wrinkled in confusion. "Why?"

She had not been informed that Natsume had been staying over- and never observed him long enough to know that he did not do dirty work. So it was a natural reaction for her to be shocked, seeing the lights still turned on inside.

She shrugged, "Probably forgot to turn it off." And moved forward. "A promise is a promise." She pushed at the doors, but they wouldn't budge or turn. Only after she had tried a few times had she started to knock loudly on it, hoping Narumi-sensei had returned from his 'quest,' as he called it.

What she saw next frightened the living soul out of her. In the blurriness of the glass circular-moving doors, she could make out a tall figure with a sharp blade in his hand. She took a step backwards, preparing to run. The fear gripped her then, immobilizing her feet to the ground. The figure bent down near the door and unlocked it, pushing through. Scared at the close proximity, she panicked and stumbled backwards and to the ground. When the figure was fully outside, Mikan was unable to see his face. He was an intimidating silhouette against the star-bright sky and the many luminous lights of the café.

Mikan shielded her eyes with one arm, used her other hand to clutch the locket around her neck, and curled into a ball. Even more afraid than before, she let out a piercing scream and cried out the only person she thought of.

"_**Mama!**_"

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"What was that?" Sitting inside the café, Mikan had her arms crossed over her tummy in distress, tolerating Natsume's taunts. "You called out to your _mama?_" Natsume rested his head over one arm on the table while the other was gripping his stomach, he tried desperately not to laugh. The knife sat dangerously close to his arm. "That was a good one."

"Oh, shut it." Upset, she covered her eyes with a hand, hoping he wouldn't notice the tears that had formed there in her midst of dread. She felt like picking up that knife and stabbing him a good few times. _He doesn't understand!_ "I'm leaving." She got up, not wanting to put up with him anymore.

He didn't notice how depressed she really was. "Okay, okay!" He needed her to stay—someone had to do the dishes, and it wasn't going to be him. "I'm…" Natsume stopped short, stunned. In his life before all this, he never had to apologize to anyone for any reason. Now, it seemed like the most natural thing for him to do.

Which was just totally _not right_.

"You're what?" Impatient, Mikan faced him only when she was sure all the tears had diminished. When he opened his mouth to speak, she sped ahead, using her fingers to make her point. "Please, let me have the pleasure of telling you what you are. You are an insensitive, inconsiderate, thoughtless, obnoxious swine!" He winced as she spit her angry words at him. Anger overpowered her sadness and drove her to go on. "Saving you was a big mistake—"

"_You _were the one who saved me?" He made it a mental note to give Blondie _his _piece of mind later. There was never any kind, _lonely-looking_ lady to begin with!

"—you've got no sense of duty or responsibility. The world doesn't revolve around you, you know! All you can do is chat with women and charm 'em. Hotaru leaves and you don't say a word to me—"

"What does she have to do with all this?"

"—my interview just went badly and thinking back, you're exactly like that insufferable man! All you can do is tease and mock me—" Tears threatened to fall, yet again, as Mikan lashed her fury at Natsume.

"Interview?" Natsume felt a twinge of regret for laughing and was, yet again, surprised at the feeling. Guilt was as new to him as washing dishes.

"—you saw my polka-dotted underwear and made fun of me for that too—"

"Are you done yet?"

"—and then you kiss me—my first kiss, might I add— and then treat it like it's nothing!" Swiping another hand across her face to rid of the tears that welled up, Mikan bit her trembling bottom lip to stop the tears from tumbling down. She was breathing heavily, her shoulders rising and falling, due to endless talking. "_Now _I'm done." She loosened her hands, wondering when she had made them into balled fists.

Putting on a pretentious smile, Natsume raised his eyebrow. He hated being made to feel defensive.

"First off, do not hate the way I was raised. Secondly, your friend did have a message for you, and I apologize for that." Better than not saying 'sorry' at all, he thought. "Thirdly, your interview went badly? Tough, there will be others. And even though I'm sure you could have sexier underwear, I happen to like your childish ones." The guilt came running back to him and he did not welcome it any more than he welcomed dirty dishes.

Completely taken aback, Mikan didn't know how to respond. "What's your poi—?"

"And finally," He reached out with his gloved hands to her shoulders, "Just because I resisted every damned temptation to kiss you since the first, does not prove it meant nothing!"

"That's not how I see it." She began, staring up into those deep, crimson eyes. "You have no proof, you womanizer."

"You want proof?" He asked this preposterously, wondering how such a woman could be so oblivious to his actions. Natsume's voice became coarse with desire, "I'll give you proof." He brought her close, and lifting her to her toes, Natsume closed his mouth over hers.

Her eyes widened in protest as her hands instantly flew up to push against his chest. It was an assault, a glorious one that made her weak-kneed, light-headed, and hot-blooded all at once. Mikan's arms fell to her sides helplessly. All thoughts of objection fled her mind.

When he could not feel her arms resisting him anymore, it was like a sign of surrender. The power she gave him from such a simple motion drove him into madness. He could feel his sanity slipping away like water-soaked sand slipping through fingers.

Without any warnings, she realized she was falling. She wanted him, more of him...to touch, to taste. Using what was left of her depleted strength; Mikan raised her fingers and tangled them into his unruly but magnificent head of jet-black hair. She inhaled all that was him: so strong, so solid, and so male. His hands, too, moved from her shoulders to wrap around her waist to support her when her knees melted and gave way. They were locked in a powerful embrace.

Roaming, her hands made a trail from his hair down to his neck, his broad shoulders, and came to rest on his chest where she felt his heart kick hard.

Her touching him only made him more greedy for more of her and when he tried to lift her shirt, she was surprised to feel rubber instead of flesh.

Why he was not able to feel her skin caught Natsume off-guard. Slowly and unwillingly, he began to notice what he was doing and stopped himself before it became impossible to let her go. He pulled back, still holding her to make sure she was steady on her feet.

"Is that enough proof for you?" he said, his voice thick with passion.

She blinked, unsure of what to say. An unknown feeling, that felt like water filled to the brim, was threatening to spill and she hadn't a clue what to do about it.

"Anything else to say, Polka?" He removed his hands as soon as she was standing on her own. Contact of any kind was going to drive him nuts. Both his head and heart was still recovering from the way she made him feel.

Weak and stupid.

He also knew that from the moment he met her, yellow banana peels and gloves will never be the same to him anymore. They would always be a kind of reminder of their wacky encounters and situations- both of which ended with a kiss.

She regained her balanced...and her virtue. "Uh...you…you...you're still wearing those yellow rubber gloves." Mikan needed time to think. She needed to think things out logically and reasonably. Because this was wrong. "Don't you have to wash the dishes?"

"What? Oh." He glanced down at his hands.

She smiled up at him. How could it be wrong when it felt _so_ right? "You know, your head touched it when you were laughing at me earlier." It touched me too, she mused, but I don't care.

The memory very briefly came and went and Natsume revolted.

"_Oh. Mon. Dieu._" (_Oh. My. God.)_

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* * *

_Red Strings Of Fate  
_


	7. Fatuous Doting Parents

Café D'Amour

**Author's Note: **If you don't know what 'fatuous' means, google it or something! :)

* * *

**Chapter VII: Fatuous Doting Parents**

"Your Majesty, I strongly advise you to observe the situation at hand before you do something…" wise, as he was, he thought carefully about his words, "insensible."

"Yes, yes, I know. But this is my son we're talking about." King Ryou paced the length of his immeasurable sleeping quarters, hands clasped behind his back. "What if he got kidnapped? And drop the formalities." he added, "No one else is here."

He smiled as he observed King Ryou. "Do not forget that he is trained in numerous forms of defensive and offensive techniques." Tall, dark, and handsome, like a real king from any fairy tale. Even in his early-forties, Ryou Hyuuga still glowed with boyish spirit and looked as attractive as he did in his early-twenties. Through the years they'd been together, he found that age never seemed to faze Ryou. The only small hints of any real aging were the few worry lines and wrinkles around his eyes and a some strands of silver hair.

"True." The king stopped pacing and turned to face his most loyal right-hand man and trusted friend, "Still, he is the only son of mine who is most suited to be heir to the throne. How can I not be worried about him?" He moved with a kind of grace that spoke of royalty and lowered himself on one of his cushioned, single settees. His fingers curled around the crystal flute, half-filled with wine, on the table next to him and brought it to his lips.

"What of the young prince, then?"

Ryou shook his head slowly, "Like you said, he is young. And is the younger." With a flick of the wrist, the wine was swirling in the glass. "Our tradition is of utmost importance."

"_Absolument_." And the princess, being a princess, was out of the question.  
(_Absolutely)_

"His resemblance to her is so miraculous." Restless, Ryou put his glass down and traveled to the mantel where a large framed picture, one he had personally painted, hung on the wall alone. The roaring fire beneath the mantel spit out sparks of gold and red. "I miss her so much."

He walked to where the king was and rested a hand on his shoulder. "We all do."

The simple, friendly gesture was enough to warm his heart. "What is my schedule for today?" He asked while staring into his late wife's still eyes of dark red.

"You have a meeting with the council members this afternoon," pulling it from memory, he continued, "and a dinner reserved with Mr. and Mrs. Imai this evening."

"Ah. They did so much to change technology in my day." Suddenly feeling old and tired, the king returned to his seat. "Their daughter has really owned up to their reputation and snatched their business from them, too." Nothing better than children who can surpass their parents, he mused. "I quite enjoy their company." He said as he took another swig of wine.

"I feel that way about them as well. Fortunately, their daughter is also joining us tonight as well."

I am looking forward to meeting her after all these years, he thought silently, I wonder how much she's grown. "Natsume is at the age when he should marry. Don't you agree?"

"Surely Your Majesty is not suggesting—"

"I am." Coolly, he picked up his flute and downed the rest of his wine. His friend was almost as tall as himself, but smaller in general and more delicate in build.

And easier to see through.

"Did you not promise him that you would not interfere with his life?"

Ryou winced. Slightly. "He breaks his promise of not running away. He gets away with it." He held up his flute and let it shimmer and glisten from the fire's wild movements. "Not only can I not break mine, I cannot even worry for the future of my children?" He paused—for dramatic effect and then pouted. "That is hardly fair."

He grimaced at the king's child-like behaviour. "How would you know if he and the one you will select for him will have mutual feelings?" Poor boy. He prayed for him, even while trying to save him from his doting father. "What if he is out there, finding the right girl, right now? Maybe...maybe he might learn a thing or two about earning a living and manners while he has escaped outside of your walls." When Ryou did not respond, he knew what he was thinking. "You do not even think that is possible, do you?"

The king pondered quietly a minute. Then he raised an eyebrow in sudden curiosity, "In all honesty, Izumi"—he cast a dangerous glance to his friend— "can you imagine my son doing any kind of common-folk work?"

"His Royal Highness Natsume de Castille?" Ryou nodded again, with a twinkle of amusement in his smiling eyes.

"The prince in servitude." Izumi knew that if he was not honest, the king could tell. After attempting to imagine it, Izumi blew out a breath. He couldn't even imagine it. "What a sight it could be."

His lips curved in laughter. "My thoughts exactly."

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"No, no!" Mikan cried out of frustration, "You can't wash dishes if you don't _touch _them!"

"Well,_ excusez-moi_," (_excuse me)_ When Natsume was annoyed, he'd slip into his French. He just couldn't touch those filthy plates. And whenever Mikan made an example to rinse, scrub, and rinse again, he didn't dare touch the ghastly sponge or water either. "Where do you get the guts to be near objects with such a foul smell?"

"You get used to it." Her shoulders slumped, thinking about the past and all this extra time she had. "I sure could've used that other part-time job."

"What was that?"

She glanced at the inconsiderate jerk. "Nothing."

"Oh yeah—I forgot to mention the message your friend left you." He wrinkled his brows and thought for a bit. "Something about… not being in school for the first month."

"Thanks. But I've already figured that out." She continued to keep her hands busy, refusing to think too deeply about it. "Hotaru doesn't act without a good reason. Which means she visited me only 'cause she forgot something." Mikan knew that Hotaru never did things, or visited _just because. _That doesn't mean Mikan couldn't wish for it though.

"You know," standing next to her and not doing anything, Natsume actually felt bad. "You don't have to help me with _all_ of this." He mused, you do ninty-nine point nine-nine percent of it; I'll attempt to take care of the rest.

"I'm not going to do it for you for the rest of my life. Ever heard the saying '_give a man a fish and you'll feed him a day, teach a man how to fish and you feed him for a lifetime_?'" She didn't even look at him—just the dishes she was washing, "Learn it now, and learn it well."

The night before, she stayed and did it for him because he would stop at least ten meters away from the sink, no closer. Since Narumi-sensei wasn't back and the café couldn't be opened without him, she somehow talked her way into returning in the morning to teach him more. Though it couldn't even be considered teaching. She was doing all the work. Natsume was a naturally bad pupil.

Though he had improved slightly. He could stand near the sink now.

"Why _don't_ you just do it for me, then, for the rest of your life?" He leaned on the counter—the cleanest spot he could find—and tilted towards her to make sure he was in her line of vision. "I could hire you." When she didn't react, he decided to take the dive. "Or you could marry me." It was _very _satisfying to watch her body jerk and turn immobile.

"Stop that." She pulled herself out of shock and continued to wash, "Marriage is no joke."

Only a small nagging voice at the back of his head asked a single question of which he ignored: Why is this girl against marriage when normal girls would be delighted at the prospect of it all?

He shrugged and dropped the topic quickly. The thought of it was making him want to gag anyway. "So," Natsume picked up an apple nearby, took a big bite into it, and chewed as he spoke. "That mean you got a boyfriend, then?"

"None of your business."

"Oh. A girlfriend, then?" He had to fight to keep a smile from forming when her head whipped around with an annoyed expression. A kind of sexy one, too. He thought it weird how she was totally unaware of her own beauty, completely unselfconscious. Then he realized that that was maybe why he felt a tiny bit attracted to her in the first place.

"Look here, Mr. I've-Had-Everything-I've-Wanted-Since-Forever, if you've got the time to talk, then maybe you should use it to start washing these instead." She dropped the sponge and cup she was holding and pulled off the yellow gloves. Slapping it against the counter, she stepped back and gestured with her palms open up and smiled ever so sweetly. "Be my guest."

He flinched visibly. "Er…I have not finished eating yet." He twisted the hand which held the apple and took another crunchy bite.

A vein on her forehead was about to pop, knowing it was impossible to get him to start washing it now. "You're intolerable."

Natsume smiled triumphantly. "So I've heard."

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"Narumi!" Running, Misaki drew his wooden sword up with both hands, "Come back with my beans, you crooked crook!"

"Aw, lighten up a bit, Misaki!" Narumi-sensei had both hands grasped on the scrunched up opening of a large bag over his shoulder. One that could easily be mistaken as Santa's sack of gifts. "You know I'm a sucker for your beans!" He turned his head back to give him the most gratifying smile he could manage. "And I came all this way to get 'em too!"

"I don't care." When he was close enough, Misaki swung his sword towards him. "You're stealing royal beans. That's a crime!"

"Maybe so, except I didn't borrow them 'cause they were royal!" Narumi-sensei dodged the sword with what looked like years of experience. "It's because they were planted by your talented self and because you're my best buddy in the whole wide world!" He dashed ahead when his car came in sight. "I can't _possibly _get arrested for that!"

"'Borrow,' my _derrière_(_butt/rear)_! Why the hell would you come all the way to Castille when you can go to a nearby market to get some? Legally!"

"Like I said," Narumi-sensei hopped into his green beetle through the open window with one smooth jump and dropped the bloated bag on the passenger seat, "You planted them." He turned the keys and the engine kicked to life, "And your beans are the best in the world to bake and all that good stuff!"

"Don't worry. I'll make sure to leave some for you, honey!" Digging his foot on the gas pedal, Narumi-sensei drove off, "Much appreciated, toodles!"

"Argh!" Routed, Misaki stopped chasing and stared after his beetle as he thought out loud. "You came out here for other reasons, right?" Still upset about his beans, Misaki turned around and booted a rock that happened to be on the path. After a minute or so, he crouched where he stood and bent his head between his knees with his arms resting on them.

"_Je veux mes haricots!_"  
_(I want my beans!)_

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* * *

**Author's Note: **Just kidding! If you were too lazy to google and/or it, then I'm going to tell you what it means. In short: silly, foolish, dense, or even stupid! Something that also perfectly describes Mikan. You learn something new everyday!

You're welcome :)**  
**

_Red Strings Of Fate  
_


	8. Enter Snow White

Café D'Amour

**Chapter VIII: Enter Snow White  
**

"I'm home."

As I opened the door, I had to hold on to the knob to keep balance. Unstably, I walked in and swung the door closed behind me. Plopping onto my bean bag chair as a substitute for a couch, I sighed from the instant comfort. Still sinking into it, the corner of something thin poked my butt. Lifting myself off the chair a little, I stuck a hand under and pulled it out.

It was last month's copy of '_Tokyo Times_' and on the front cover was Her Serene Highness Aoi de Castille. She stood a tall five foot nine inches- a height made for modeling- deep crimson eyes , and hair the colour of midnight black.

Crimson eyes, midnight black hair...they seem familiar now that I look closely. But that's impossible. I've never met her before, so stop thinking crazy Mikan!

Her Serene Highness was always arranging or was apart of charity events, social events, and fundraisings- which made her an excellent role model. I could honestly admit that I could fall for her, if I was a man. I stared at her flawless features and the enormous _Palais de Castille (Castille Palace)_ that stood proudly in the background. I loved those mile-high towers, that white-sheen of the palace walls, the wonderfully-scented (I imagined) gardens, the ocean view, the tall, grand windows...it was all simply beautiful.

_l'île de Castille (Island of Castille/ Castille Island) _isn't really an island but because it resides on the edges of the peninsula nearest Tokyo, it gives that impression. In my opinion, all the French names given to everything simply surrounds the royal family with the air of sophistication. Currently, His Royal Majesty Ryou de Castille is reigning, and reigning well. I had heard about his famous eccentric and childish behaviour, though he reigns well nonetheless.

As a child who was born and raised in Japan, I was forced to learn about Japan's royal family since...forever. Okay, I exaggerated. Elementary school-ish! I think.

King Ryou was only a painter but he proved to be worthy as King after he married into the family. The princess was an only child of the last generation. It's been almost thirteen years since she passed away. Together, they had three children: a princess and two princes.

The eldest is Her Serene Highness Aoi de Castille. She is, and has always been, a public figure since she was old enough to take over all her mother's responsibilities. Did I mention that that's the reason why I admired her so deeply? She'd been so strong during the long period of mourning.

His Royal Highness Youichi de Castille was the youngest and infamous for being a playboy- you can find his handsome face on the front covers of any magazine about his most recent scandals.

And the Crown Prince? The one who's supposedly next in line to be _the _king?

No clue. I've always thought it weird that the second most important member of Japan's royal family never showed his face to us common peasants before. Maybe it's to keep him safe or something. There have been dozens of rumours though. Actually, way _more_ than just a dozen.

Those were my last thoughts as I unwillingly left the comfort of my bean bag chair to answer the unknown knocking at my door.

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At first look, the palace was really impressive- no matter how many times she had visited before in the past, she could never get used to such a magnificently-built edifice.

She glanced at her watch. "I'm late." She said, not seeming to care much. "They better have crab." Stepping out from the limo fresh from an hour-long meeting, she made sure to straighten her business suit, brush at her business skirt, and tap her practical business pumps. "And watermelons."

Upon approaching the enormous front palace doors, the man on duty confirmed her identity and called on the head butler to handle the rest. Although she knew her way around, the butler insisted on taking her to the dining room anyway. He knocked on the tall doors politely, "Announcing Miss Hotaru Imai," and pushed them outwards.

"Honey," her mother clucked her tongue, "You are late."

"Sorry." Though she really wasn't. "Got caught up."

"_Bon soir, mademoiselle._"(_Good evening, miss) _King Ryou's voice boomed and echoed with a voice that was known to command and control attention, "_Asseyez-toi_,"(_Have a seat)_- he winked at her father- "We have a great deal to discuss."

Unsure what to expect and a little suspicious of the king, Hotaru took a seat across from her parents.

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"Hey, babe."

Mikan's face changed to one of incredulity, "What did you just call me?"

He wrinkled his brows at her expression, it took a lot of guts just to say 'babe'. "Beautiful."

"That's not it."

"Gorgeous?"

"Think of a better one."

"..."

"Come on, we've been through this already." She leaned on the door with her arms crossed at her chest, "I'm not letting you in until you say it."

He hesitated for a second, then sighed. Some things just didn't sound right coming through his mouth. Like he was rehearsing a line without interest, he said it dully, "What's crack-a-lackin', Sexy?"

"That's the one!" Her face brightened up as she stepped to the side. With the sweep of an arm, she invited him inside. "Welcome to my humble home, Snow White!"

His first reaction to her little joke, about his love for all animals and the ability to communicate with them, was to wince. They also had the 'Snow White' play back in junior high when he played that role as well. It was so ironic how well he fit the rolw that the vote for him to be Snow White was unanimous. Several classmates were relieved when there weren't any animal roles to fill as real ones came about naturally.

He smiled as he stepped through the threshold. The funny thing with her apartment was that even though she's got some random things strewn all over the floor (i.e. clothes, books), her counters, tables, and sinks were spotless. It had a tangy lemon scent, too. "The correct noun following 'humble,' should be 'jungle.'"

"Oh, you praise me too much." Her lips curved. Mikan has always considered herself lucky to have a neighbour who was also her classmate and long-time close friend. "So what brings you to the next apartment over?"

"Nothing much." Ruka Nogi watched his feet closely while he crossed the room to avoid tripping. "I noticed you haven't been around lately."

Mikan trailed closely after him, stepping in the places where he found the oh-so-rare floor. "Yeah, I got a new part-time job!"

"Oh, hey, that's great!" In the cleanest space that was a 'kitchen' to Mikan, Ruka stopped suddenly and turned around. The rays of sunlight streamed through the petite window and settled on Mikan. He watched as light played with the angles of her unique visage and yearned to explore it with his own fingers. "That's really great."

"Oof!" She bumped into him, unprepared for him to stop moving so unexpectedly. "Why'd you sto-" Mikan stared up into his ocean blue eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Ruka breathed deeply and dragged a hand through his hair, "I, euh...I want-need," he corrected, "to tell you something."

Mikan brought her hand up and brushed at the stray golden locks on his forehead as she sighed. "I know already."

Did she have any idea how her touch affected him? "I have always..." His eyes widened after his brain registered her words. He couldn't hear himself breathe- or his heart beat. "You...you do?"

"Yup. It was quite obvious." She side-stepped him and reached for her flashing messaging machine.

_**You have four messages.**_

_**Beep.** Mikan-chan! You promised that we'd go shopping this summer! Your taste in clothes is way too horrible for me to bear for our last year in high school! Message me A.S.A.P.! As in, AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! GOT IT? Oh, it's me, Anna, by the way. Call me!_

"Tsk. That's so mean! My fashion sense isn't _that _bad!" She pouted and didn't noticed the little chuckle and nod of agreement (to Anna's comment, aka an insult) from Ruka. Ruka was actually baffled, though. He imagined that Mikan would be kind of...shocked. Just a little. "...May I know how your thoughts on it?"

_**Beep.** Hey Mikan, it's Sumire. I heard you got a hottie over at your new part-time! If we're still friends, you'd introduce us! Call back!_

"Heh. Such a Permy thing to say." Mikan looked back at Ruka, "I don't really think much of it." She shrugged. "It was expected."

_Ouch. _He didn't know how he should feel. It hurt so much more than he anticipated. _Hold up. 'Hottie' at her part-time...?_

_**Beep. **"What's smokin', babe?" _Pause. _Okay, I said it- I can talk to you legally now, right? It's Koko, and boy, have I got news for you! It's actually kind of a secret, so not many people know it. Call me when you've got time! _

Ruka glared at the machine, why did she have to turn it on at this time?

"I mean, Hotaru always missed over half the school year, comes back and _still _beats me at every darned subject!" She grabbed a cup on the shelf and filled it with milk from the pitcher in the fridge. "It's not fair. Not only do I not get to see her, I don't have the satisfaction to see her cower in inferiority!" Aggressively, Mikan swung the cup up and downed it fiercely.

"Pardon?" He took a second to piece all her words together and took another second to realize that they were not on the same page."Oh, yeah. Imai-san is never fair, is she?" The moment is ruined, he thought sadly, I have to wait even longer now. Uncertain how to face her, he tried a smile. Luckily, he managed one. A thin, tight smile.

_**Beep. **Mikan! Long time no talk, girl! Listen, I need a serious favour from you. You know how my parents are in the "you're twenty-one and don't even have a boyfriend" phase__? Yeah, for them to be at ease, I either need a guy, who's willing to take on this challenge of meeting the parents of a girl he's never met before, or you to come with me to pretend like one actually exists. They like and trust you more than their daughter. Sigh. You know who this is. Help!_

_**End of messages.**_

"Poor Misaki!" When she finished drinking and quickly washed and dried the cup, a thin line of white milk was revealed just above her top lip. "I'll have to get back to her first."

Pulling a tissue from a nearby tissue box, Ruka wiped it off for her. She grinned at what she thought were brotherly actions. "By the way," Ruka was having mixed feelings. Relieved that she wasn't responding to his feelings _that_ way just now, and disappointment from another failed attempt. "What's this about a new friend at your new job?" He said, referring to Sumire's message.

"Ah...I don't really want talk about it." _'Cause we're not really friends. _"Long story short. He's a jerk."

"I see." Ruka hadn't realized how tense his whole body was this whole time. He relaxed at her last words. "Giving you a hard time?"

"'Hard' is put too mildly." She moved to pick up some of the unbelievably old and somewhat dirty clothings on the floor. "'Hell,' is more like it." Thinking about Natsume brings her back to not one, but two unforgettable and life-changing kisses. Embarassed, Mikan started to groan- reliving the memories.

Ruka made a quick decision. Something about the way Mikan acted when the 'jerk' was brought up made him uneasy.

"Is your manager still hiring?"

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* * *

**Author's Note: **Just a fun fact: if you actually looked at the map of Japan, you'll actually see a peninsula near Tokyo.

_Red Strings Of Fate__  
_


	9. Surprise Guests

Café D'Amour

**Chapter IX: Surprise Guests  
**

"Mikan..."

She looked at him with a disapproving look which made him remember in an instant, "Err…I mean, Se…" he tried again as he wrinkled his brow with obvious effort, "Ba…" He huffed a breath and decided to simply be honest and get it over with. "Can't you just let me off with saying your name? It makes me feel…" He picked his words carefully, "uncomfortable…to call you anything else."

"Are you _trying_ to say that I'm NOT sexy? That I'm NOT a smokin' babe?" She gave him a soul-piercing glare, feigning a wound at her chest as she clutched the fabric there. "Is that what you're trying to say Ruka-pyon?"

"No!" He spoke with a fast reaction to her accusing tone. He regretted it quickly when her mouth opened in protest and quickly cut her off. "—I mean yes!" He thought that over again. "I mean no—yes…Argh!" He slapped his hand to his forehead in frustration, "You know what I mean."

"I assure you that I don't." She sniffed, sticking her chin higher up in the air to create an image of haughtiness. "So? What do you want?" It was tempting for her to smile. Ruka was almost _too _easy.

"Oh yeah," Ruka glanced down again at Mikan's uniform, remembering why he called out to her in the first place. "Y-Your u-uniform," Mikan followed where his eyes directed and also stared down at her uniform, "It's a b-bit…" He looked away, clearly ashamed to be caught staring directly at it.

"A bit _what_?" She snapped her head back up at him, almost ready to give in to the temptation to smile. Though she was really a little embarrassed for her friend and neighbour to see her in that _particular_ outfit, she was having too much fun with him to care at the moment.

"Um…Well—" A blush formed on his cheeks before he was interrupted.

"Welcome, my dear!" Narumi-sensei bounced into the staff lounge, making a large entrance as was his style. It was evident that he had listened in on their conversation. "Ruka-kun, I believe you were just about to question my fashion sense, am I right to assume such as it is?" He smiled innocently at the flustered boy.

"Um." His eyes automatically flew to Mikan's searching for any aid she could offer. She smiled at him and winked, attempting to encourage him to impress their manager in any way he could. "I'm going to go…uh," not that it actually worked. He turned towards the door and inched closer to it, "escape from this disadvantageous situation." His whole face turned bright pink as soon as he turned his back to them.

Mikan giggled out loud while someone entered just as Ruka exited, they both weren't paying attention so they collided and both men were knocked down with a noticeable _thump_.

She laughed even harder and stopped herself quickly; sensing the sudden change from a comfortable atmosphere to one filled with crackling tension. Narumi-sensei had a look of amusement and interest light on his visage while she looked for the source that triggered the immediate change.

Natsume and Ruka sat there, Natsume glaring and Ruka recovering from his previous embarrassment. It dawned on Ruka that this was who Sumire had mentioned in her phone message. He returned the glare.

Totally unaware at the instant dislike of each other, Mikan sauntered over and introduced them to each other as they got up. "Hey Pervert," her face scrunched up, making it quite obvious that she disliked him, "this is Ruka-pyon. Ruka-pyon," she smiled at him, "this is Per-Natsume." She also made it clear that she disliked acknowledging his real name.

Polite as he was, Ruka tried his best to be friendly as he was raised that way."Nice to meet you." He put his hand out, expecting him to shake it.

"Tch." The way Mikan made no effort to hide her dislike for Natsume insulted him and he looked away.

She lightly punched his arm, "At least shake it, you jerk." She threatened in a low volume.

"…" His eyes returned to Ruka, sizing him up this time. Nearly as tall as himself—somewhere around five-eleven—, lean, blond, blue-eyed. Damn. Hesitantly, he reached out to meet Ruka's waiting hand.

Mikan grinned. Glad to know that there was hope that her working life could be much more pleasant with her best buddy around. In a second or two, that hope diminished. Their hands were still clasped when Mikan looked down to see that their hands were trembling with the tremendous strength from both sides.

"What the…" It took Mikan a second to realize what they were really doing. "Okay. Stop it. STOP!" She pried their hands apart with effort. "Play nice!" Her eyes searched Ruka's accusingly though his were still locked with Natsume's. She thought he'd be _much _more mature about this than Natsume! She wasn't sure what to make of her future there as a waitress anymore.

Narumi-sensei chuckled, easily understanding the situation. "Hurry up, kids. Café opens in five minutes," and left the room without another word.

Then as Mikan began to smile inside, knowing that Ruka was obviously as against Natsume as she was, the two grinned at each other. "You've got a firm handshake there," commented Ruka.

"Was about to say the same for you," Then Natsume stuck out his fist, knuckles upwards, "Lookin' forward to working with you." Were those words coming out of _Natsume's_ lips? Mikan thought outrageously.

"Thanks." And after Ruka touched his own fist to Natsume's, they walked out.

Mikan stood there, gaping after them. Wrinkling her brows, she spoke out loud to clear the mumbo jumbo in her head, "…What just happened? The tremendous strength in their handshakes…the glares…and now they're...what?" She threw her hands up, exasperated, " Friends?"

Boys; can't understand 'em.

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With dramatic sweeps of both her arms, she spoke with a loud, arrogant, singing vibrato voice as she moved away from the main entrance, "I'm here!"

Mikan almost groaned inwardly as she moved to greet and seat her. _Here we go again._ "Hey, Permy."

"How many times have I told you _not _to call me that?" Her eyes gave a quick sweep at Mikan's outfit. "Ohmygod, that outfit is just too cute!" when they came back to Mikan's face, she teased, "And so wasted on you!" Mikan opened her mouth to protest except Sumire cut her off. "Ruka-sama!" She waved to him and leaned back to whisper to Mikan, "you didn't tell me that Ruka-sama was working here, too, you sly thing!" She sauntered off to talk to him.

"Table for one?" Mikan said to herself, clearly out of ear-shot of Sumire Shoda. Sighing, she picked up a menu and followed her.

Mikan put the menu on the closest table to Sumire, who was, currently, too close to Ruka. "Thanks Mikan, but I'll have Ruka-sama serve me." She threw a smile his way and wrapped both her arms around one of his. To be polite, he returned it with an awkward smile of his own while subtlely, and with a lot of difficultly, trying to free his arm from Sumire. However subtle, it failed. "Aw, don't be shy, Ruka-sama!" she said and tightened her hold.

Feeling sorry for Ruka, she gave him a sympathetic look,"Sure." Fortunately, she walked away just in time to avoid any kind of damage to her eardrums when Sumire '_kyaa_-ed' at the top of her lungs.

Unfortunately, Sumire's uncanny, animalistic-like speed caught Mikan in a split-second. "Ohmygod, it's him! It's him, isn't it?" she exclaimed while tugging on Mikan's uniform and frantically pointing at a tall someone who just emerged from the kitchen doors.

Poor, poor, Perverted-Pig-Tail-Murderer. Didn't even get the chance to run, she thought. "Yup."

"Quick, quick, he's coming over!" Mikan looked with disbelief and thought with confusion because he _was_ coming over. It wasn't so much as the fact that he was actually glancing her way, but because of where he was coming over _from_. The kitchen doors. The _kitchen _doors! "Hurry, what's his name?"

Without thinking, she answered, "Natsume." Then deeply regretted it as Sumire zoomed past her to get to him. Since they started working together, Mikan had witnessed Natsume charming all sorts of pretty girls-even hot bombshells. Although it was hard to watch at first, she gradually got used to it...but Sumire brought back a sharp fresh pang that made her confused...was it because she felt protective of her friend? She wouldn't want a _pervert_ of all people to steal her away, right?

Mikan watched silently as she made small talk with him and the bland expressions he was giving her- which she paid no attention to, of course. If it doesn't please her, she pretends it's not happening. It's Sumire's way of life.

Something was fishy from his expressions, too. He looked too...pleased. It annoyed her enough to not even consider giving him the benefit of the doubt...Or maybe she was unhappy because Sumire beat her to him.

Before she realized it, Sumire was beside her and talking again, "Ohmygod! He speaks _only_ French! He's so sexy!"

"What?" She glanced over at him in time to see him wink at her. For the love of cute puppies and Superman! He's seducing every girl who walks into this damned café with his stupid language!

"Sexy my butt," she all but threw the words in his direction. "Excuse me, Permy, but I think Ruka-pyon is waiting to serve you now." She squealed again, liking the way Mikan said it as if Ruka was her's to command.

She marched towards him determinedly, unsure why she felt Sumire was a huge nuisance just now- more than ever before. Weird. So that feeling just now wasn't about being protective? "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He arched his eyebrow, "I don't know what you mean."

"Stop seducing my friends!"

"I was doing no such thing." Now he looked amused, which made her more annoyed. "Jealous?" And gave her a teasing smirk.

"Not even!" Was that feeling jealousy? And not protectiveness? "Then what were you doing in there?" she pointed to the kitchen, "You're up to something, aren't you?"

As soon as she mentioned it he glanced around cautiously, pulled her around to the other side of the more empty café, and leaned in close to her ear, "I conquered it." He sounded genuinely happy, though his face was well under control.

Mikan was confused, "Conquered what?"

"Dish-washing." His eyes brightened up and Mikan felt terrible for suspecting anything of him.

"...Congrats?" She smiled. This was by far the weirdest, yet most normal conversation she's ever had with him."Now I don't have to-"

"Well, I can now stand right in _front _of the sink and tolerate the stink!" Although she didn't really consider being able to stand and take in the smell of dirty dishes counted as 'conquering dish-_washing_,' but she let him gloat anyway. He framed her face with both his hands, "And it's all thanks to you." Especially since he was giving her all the credit.

"I hope you washed those-" before she could say 'hands,' he leaned closer and kissed her forhead so gently that it made her insides tremble, "-lips."

...

Oops.

"_Merci beaucoup, mon amour._"(_Thank you very much, my love)_ Since he has been working with her for some time now, he knew that she couldn't know what _'mon amour'_ meant- which was why he used it while knowing fully that his blooming feelings were still oblivious and secure.

Then he let go and was back to his normal self. Calm, arrogant, and French. "_T'as-tu l'habitude de te laver les lèvres?_" (_Have you the habit of washing your lips?) _He smirked his trademark smirk and resumed working.

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"No." Even while sitting, she exuded an aura of stubborness and haughtiness at once. "You cannot do this to me. I am my own person."

"Come, now, Ru-chan." her mother clucked her tongue as she always did when trying to lecture her, or to persuade her. Ever since she passed the age of seven, her mother hasn't clucked her tongue for the first reason again. "Be reasonable."

"No. _You _be reasonable." She fought to keep her cool with her own mother, "And don't call me that."

"I'll call you whatever I like simply because I am your mother." Her mother turned to her father, "Darling, please say something."

"You do understand that this position the king has put us in really leaves us no choice, don't you?" He spoke monotoniously and without much compassion. His mauve eyes boring into her's.

"Every single person on this planet has choices." She replied calmly, "I am my own person, I have control over my own actions which then allows me to control my own fate by making my own choices."

As a mother, it was hard to see her daughter turn down an offer that could be good for her, so very beneficial for everyone. "Not only would this benefit our family lineage, but you'll live a life filled with everything you could only dream of!"

She had a sudden urge to break the chair she sat on because it allowed her parents to surround her. "I already have all that I want. In fact, I find that earning the things I could dream of only makes me all the more opposed to this ridiculous proposition."

"But, honey-"

"For the last time: no." She stood abrubtly, surprising them with enough time to get out of the cursed place. "This is the twenty-first century." She opened the door that would lead her out of the living room of the house she grew up in, "Arranged marriages just shouldn't happen anymore." Hotaru controlled her anger and resisted slamming the door.

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The jerk was mocking me! she thought angrily, How dare he? Although she didn't understand any of the French, she could hear it in his tone of voice.

And that smirk. It was definitely a smirk he used when he dared to mock!

And that kiss...

How could a kiss be so gentle that, for a just a mere second, her mind seemed to lean towards him completely; willing to give him everything, and anything, he wanted? How could something so simple as a kiss on her forehead throw her into inner turmoil- something that didn't happen when they had more intimate contact like lip-to-lip?

It hurt, she realized. The growing pain in her chest felt like it had a sudden spurt of some more growth in that one second. It was so overwhelming that she actually lost track of what she wanted to say. How embarassing! And to think that the feeling she might have felt, when Sumire was obviously flirting with Natsume, was jealousy! Next time she planned to-

"-kan-chan"

She looked up, forgetting that she was going to have company to walk home with after work from then on, "Huh?"

He chuckled. "What are you thinking so deeply about?"

"Er." She searched her mind for something other than Natsume. "Nothing, nothing!" Better to change the topic than coming up with a lie, she decided. "How did you find your first day, Ruka-pyon?" They were climbing a set of stairs inside their apartment building.

"Hm...I thought it was pretty interesting, that Natsume fellow seems mysterious, yet...I feel like we're very similar somehow." He smiled...then flinched visibly, remembering, "Shoda-san was also quite the...surprise, and everyone was really great but..." he breathed in deeply and gathered his wits, as he always did when deciding that the moment was satisfactory enough for another try, "You know, Mikan-chan, the real reason that I wanted to work there was because-"

"Who's that in front of my door?"

Caught off guard, it only took another moment for his protectiveness to kick in. He moved so that he blocked her way. "Stay behind me and don't move."

After tippy-toeing and squinting over Ruka's shoulder at the unexpected guest, she warmed with familiarity. "Oh, Ruka-pyon, look. It's only Koko, I can recognize his blond hair and happy face from miles away!" Laughing, she walked around Ruka and up the last few necessary steps. "Hey Koko!"

He turned slowly, that smile of his never fading, "Hey Sexy, Ruka-kun!" Ruka returned his smile.

Mikan nudged Ruka and whispered, "See, Koko's got it down so naturally!" and thus he quickly regretted acknowledging Koko's greeting. "What's up?"

"Well you see..." He looked at Ruka then back at Mikan, giving her a crystal clear message.

"I see...I bet we have lots to catch up on, Koko. I'll see you at work tomorrow, Ruka-pyon!" She opened her own door and ushered Koko in, "Good night!"

"Sweet dreams." But without waiting his reply, she had already closed her own door in haste. He sighed.

Another failed chance had come and gone in the blink of an eye.

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"So what's in the happening? You sounded pretty esctatic when you left me that voice message." They both plopped down on bean bag chairs comfortably while the two steaming cups of tea sat patiently on the nearby coffee table. "What exciting news do you have that even Ruka-pyon can't hear about? Does it have something to do with him?"

"Well...it's not so much that specifically _he_ shouldn't hear it," his smile deepened- if that was possible, "it's more the fact that I'm intending to keep this information on the DL."

"The DL?"

"The down low."

"Oh."

"And since you're like, one of the biggest fans of the royal Castille family, I thought that you might want to be in on what's going on there."

"I'm not _exactly _a 'fan.' I just like to fantasize about things that could happen in places like Castille- can you believe that a place like that even exists at a time like this? It's so incredibly fairy tale-like with high potential for unique romantic situations!" She clasped her hands and brought it close to her heart as she closed her eyes. Something she always did to go off to her 'happy place.' "The tall, white, castle walls, two handsome princes, a beautiful princess, imagine all the possible adven-"

"That kind of _fan_tasizing is what technically puts you under the category of 'fan.'"

"Does not!"

"Do you want to hear the news or what?" Normally, Koko wouldn't have minded listening to her while she fantasized, but if she kept going on any longer, he might forget the reason why he came at all.

"Sorry. Continue, please."

Koko, aspired to be the best and most well-known reporter in the near future, had connections everywhere and even had an uncanny ability of knowing one's mind...Or just simply knowing how to get into one's mind. "You see, there has been some suspicious movements from the royal family."

"What do you mean by suspicious?"

"They've even hushed the media about this, actually."

"What is it?" Without realizing it, Mikan lowered her voice to a whisper, as befitting the setting.

"But of course, this kind of thing would never slip by me unnoticed."

"Uh huh...yeah? And?"

"So I did some undercover work and you wouldn't believe what I discover-"

Dead curious now, she became impatient, "Spill the beans already!"

He looked genuinely confused, "...Okay, if you say so..." he stood, intending to move towards the cabinet where she kept the coffee beans.

"Agh! Sit down!" He sat. "Now tell me what happened!"

"..."

"What now?"

"Promise you'll keep this a secret?"

She was a little concerned now, because he seemed kind of worried. "Yes, yes." And Koko hardly ever showed if he was ever worried or doubtful.

He picked up his cup of tea and concentrated on the floating tea leaves while rolling the cup between his palms, "You know, it really wouldn't hurt to serve coffee instead of tea once in awhi-"

"Koko!"

"The Crown Prince has disappeared."

* * *

_Red Strings Of Fate  
_


	10. Whole New Faces

Café D'Amour

* * *

**Chapter X: Whole New Faces  
**

_"The Crown Prince has disappeared."_ Mikan sighed loudly. If everyone knew, what a problem it would be! she thought.

Ruka heard her. "Are you alright, Mikan?—Oh, I mean—"

"It's okay Ruka-pyon." Mikan smiled at his attempt, "I've just got something on my mind."

"Well, um, if you need someone to listen, I'm right here, alright?" He gave her shoulder a pat and walked away to tend to some of their morning patrons.

"How can that stupid prince be so stupid?" She said beneath her breath, suddenly angry that someone she didn't know could ruin her fantasies so easily, "I mean, the whole country's counting on him to take on the role of heir and he just runs off! Does he not care about his country? his family? I bet they are worried sick! Why in the world is the _heir _so irresponsible?"

"_J'espère que vous ne vous référez pas à moi."_ Natsume smirked as he came near her to calculate a bill's total, "_Je suis très responsable, merci beaucoup_."

"What?"

"He said, 'I hope you're not referring to me,' and, 'I'm very responsible, thank you very much.'" Ruka came over to join them while Natsume walked away to give their remaining customers their bill, business was slow that morning.

"You're so lucky Ruka, your mother is French _and_ beautiful." She mumbled, disliking the fact that they are both fluent in French while she can barely speak English. "You guys make me look so bad."

You are just as beautiful, he thought to himself. "How about I give you French lessons," Ruka smiled kindly, "for free." He made an "O" with this hand.

Mikan gasped, liking the possibilities that opened up if she could speak such an elegant language, "Ruka-pyon, you're so kind!"

Natsume returned, hearing everything they had said and earned a hateful glance from Mikan when he said, "Don't bother, she's helpless." If anything, I would rather give her damn lessons, Natsume thought unhappily. "_Elle ne comprend rien,_ Nogi."_(She understands nothing)_ He also made an "O" with his hand—but it represented something completely different.

Ruka surprised Mikan by laughing heartily, "_Appelez-moi_ Ruka, _s'il vous plaît_."_(Call me Ruka, please)_ Ruka wasn't sure exactly why, but he felt like he and Natsume could understand each other.

"_Vous pouvez aussi m'appeler_ Natsume.'"_(You may also call me Natsume.)  
_

"I don't like this conversation you guys are having." Mikan pouted, not liking the fact that they left her out. "I'm going to take you up on that offer, Ruka-pyon!"

His head swivelled her way, "For real?" He grinned at the prospect of spending more time with her."When do you want to start? At my place? How about your apartment? What do you know—"

"I'm coming, too," interrupted Natsume, "I need a good laugh now and then." What a stupid excuse, he told himself. He felt it in his gut that Ruka was someone he could trust but, none-the-less, he still felt uneasy at the thought of them being alone together.

"Don't be such a party-pooper!" Not sure how she would handle being with Natsume outside of work, she looked to Ruka with pleading eyes, "Ruka-pyon would mind, wouldn't you?"

"Well," he looked at Natsume, trying to place the reason they seemed to have this connection, "No, not at all. He could help, too, Mikan." Ruka smiled.

_I have a bad feeling about this. _Mikan sighed, admitting defeat, "Fine, fine. The café will close tomorrow since Narumi-sensei will be on one of his mysterious trips again. We can either meet here, at the café, where this dude,"—she pointed at Natsume—"currently lives, or we can go to Ruka-pyon's." My apartment is not fit for anyone but me, she thought grimly.

"Let's meet at the café at around 10AM." Ruka glanced at Mikan, "I'm sure that's enough sleep-in time for you." She giggled while Natsume wrinkled his brows in an effort to control his emotions.

_Ding ding!_

"Tomorrow morning it is, then! I'll get it!" Rushing to the host's podium, Mikan grabbed a menu and welcomed the pink-haired costumer, "Irashaiamasen."

"Mikan-chan!" The costumer embraced Mikan before she had time to think, "Where have you been all summer? And you didn't even return my call!"

"Anna-chan!" Surprised and giddy now, she returned the hug, "I've been working, as you can see, and I _was_ planning to return your call today, honest!"

"Ooooh, _votre uniforme est très adorable_!" She looked her up and down, "_J'aime le sentiment français qu'il donne!"  
(Your uniform is very adorable!/I love the French feeling is gives!)  
_

Mikan rolled her eyes dramatically, "Am I the _only _one in Japan who can't speak French?"

"Oops, sorry," Anna smiled apologetically, "It is required of my profession to be fluent in several languages. _Bonjour, _Ruka-kun!" She waved energetically, leaned towards Mikan, and whispered, "Who's that delicious man chatting with him?"

Mikan couldn't help smiling at Anna's uncomprehensible connection between boys and food. "Name's Natsume," this became routine for her—many girls were interested in the pervert. Why? She could not understand either—and she spoke it like a well-rehearsed speech, "Japanese parents, born in France, speaks French fluently."

"Wow, he must be a lady-killer, then. But Misaki-sensei will always be the apple of my eyes." Mikan nodded, confirming both her statements, "Well, anyway, cute uniform or not, go change." She had a spark of determination in her eyes, "We're going shopping."

"_What?_" Mikan gaped, not believing her ears, "But I'm still _working _Anna-chan!"

"Can't you see that you need a whole new wardrobe? I could say that it's more for your benefit...but that would be lying." She sent her a wicked smile, "I'm really doing myself a favour—you need to look better than average for senior year or else it might hurt my reputation to go anywhere with you." She teased.

Narumi-sensei yelled from the kitchens, "You go ahead, Mikan-chan!" How he had heard was a mystery to them all, "Today's a slow day anyway, have fun!"

Mikan looked at Anna and saw that she would not be able to get herself out of it no matter how hard she fought. "Thanks a bunch, Narumi-sensei! Okay, Anna-chan, you win." She jogged up the stairs to the employee's room.

"So," Anna walked towards the boys at the counter, "which one of you is interested in our Mikan-chan?"

They both stared at her, incredulous, Ruka was the first to speak, "Don't be ridiculous, Anna-san." Natsume simply stood, observing her.

She grinned as Mikan came down the stairs, "That was fast, Mikan-chan!"

"I admit I'm a little excited now." Ruka waved while Natsume stayed silent, "Bye guys! Anna-chan, let's go!" She ran through the entrance.

"By the way, I find it interesting that neither of you denied it." She smiled a knowing one and followed Mikan out.

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"_Mooooom!_" She drawled it out, seemingly trying to get on her nerves, "That's not how love works!"

"Oh, _I'll _tell you how it works, honey,"—she stabbed a finger at her chest, emphasizing her point—"if _I _didn't know what it was then _you_ wouldn't be standing here right this moment!"

"Ugh!" She threw up her hands, tired of listening to the same thing repeatedly, "Yes, yes—you found Dad, and married him at by the age of twenty. And here I am, almost reaching twenty-two—blah, blah-blah, blah-blah!" Resisting the urge to roll her eyes towards the ceiling, which was her mother's biggest pet peeve, she continued, "Will you feel better if I brought in just about any guy, then?"

"Well, be wise about your choices, of course." She wiped her hands on her apron and resumed stirring the steaming pot of soup in front of her, "Then I could judge him to see if he's worthy enough." In her pot, one of the vegetables floated to the top. It closely resembled a star. "What of Tsubasa? He's all grown up and has always been such a nice boy." She smiled, remembering all the moments he and her little Misaki played together.

She wriggled her nose in disapproval, an automatic response whenever her _mother _brought up Tsubasa as if he was a potential _husband_, "Tsubasa and I have been friends since like…ever! It is just wrong...Not right! A crime maybe!"

"Now, now, dear, keep an open mind." She scooped the star-shaped vegetable and fed it to her daughter to taste, "You wouldn't want to miss the one thing you've been searching for your whole life, would you?"

Misaki ate it obediently, gulped, and then sighed audibly, "I understand…but when it happens, it happens, okay? If it'll make you happier, I'll just give my number out more often." She kissed her chuckling mother's cheek before she turned to leave the kitchen. "Oh, and Mom? Your soup tastes amazing." Her mother smiled, appreciating the compliment as Misaki left.

Taking a sip of the steaming broth herself, she spoke lightly to herself, "You wouldn't want to miss the one thing _especially _when he's right in front of you, sweetheart."

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The brightly shining sun was proudly standing high up in the cloudless, clear, blue sky.

"Anna-chan!" A bead of sweat formed and slipped down, near her ear. "Although it's windy, it's still impossibly hot, so stop walking so fast! My body heat will keep rising in temperature and then I'll die from a heat-stroke!" Not to mention all this weight I am carrying around from one end of Central Town to the other! she thought helplessly. Her excitement had waned after their visit to the second store.

"Oh, quit whining!" Spotting another boutique, Anna rushed in. Her companion sighed with relief as the air conditioning hit her from above, "The reason why you were so quickly turned-down during your last audition was probably because of your terrible fashion sense!" Anna first picked up a basket, then a palm-sized, heart-shaped bottle of perfume on the nearest shelf, "Give me your wrist."

She did as was told. "Come on, my style isn't _that _bad. If it fits, then it works—who cares about fashion!" Anna sprayed a little and brought Mikan's wrist closer to her nose for a whiff. Liking it, she put the sample back and grabbed one of the newer ones behind it. Mikan, who never really had a say during the entire shopping trip, brought her wrist too close and inhaled deeply. She coughed at the strong fragrance and then cringed; glaring at her wrist like it was the ultimate enemy.

"Mikan, Mikan, Mikan." Her eyes were moving so quickly, comparing and combining pieces of clothing in her head like a calculator that crunches numbers, "That is the reason why your clothes look like they belong in the nineties,"—she glanced back at Mikan for a fraction of a second and swiftly continued her search—"make that the seventies." Anna already had five outfits in her waiting arms—and counting.

"Really?" Mikan looked down, feeling unsure of herself for the first time, "I didn't pass the audition because of the way I dress?"

Leading the way to the dressing room area, she thumped down on one of the couches. "Positive. Now put those bags down." She ordered and then hefted the load onto Mikan. "Try these on, Hun."

Obediently, Mikan entered the small room. From inside, she spoke to Anna, "Anna-chan, we've already been to five stores and, on average, you've picked out about six outfits from each store. I'm not sure if my budget can handle this. I mean, I'm like, working so little—just the café right now, actually. That audition didn't go so well either, so—"

"It's all on me."

"—that means I won't be gaining anything from that, and…" Mikan's voice faltered, then she squeaked two syllables: "Pardon?"

"I said that this is all a gift from me, alright?" Anna, who is already a respected chief at one of the most famous and luxurious five-star hotel named '_Bonheur_,' would not have a problem with giving someone such a grand gift. She reached for a magazine on the table next to her and flipped through it, "Mikan-chan, just accept it, please. It's the least I can do."

"But…Anna-chan…all this…" Touched, Mikan thought she was ready to cry.

"Mikan-chan, aren't you in at least one outfit yet?" Anna stared at a model sporting an attractive, orange off-the-shoulder dress that fit snugly and fell, slanted and frilly, down the girl's long legs, stopping just beneath the knees. Making a mental note of its style and colour, she called out to Mikan, "Hurry up a little, I hardly get day-offs and we've still got a whole day ahead of us. Honestly—" Mikan opened the door wearing a striped green and white turtleneck sweater, a mid-thigh length plaid skirt, and decorative, knee-high socks. "Looks awesome. We'll take it. Next."

They ended up purchasing all eight outfits that Anna had put together, and Mikan, once again marvelled at her skill and good-eye for matching items. As they stepped out into the heat of the day, Mikan fumbled with all the bags on her arms and grabbed Anna's now ice-cold hands in her own, "Anna-chan, I don't know how to thank you."

"Just make sure you're presentable for the rest of your days, please." She smiled, clearly enjoying their time together. "And if you're good, I'll make you some cheesecake tonight."

"Cheesecake! Really?" She nodded. Mikan would've jumped with excitement if it weren't for the shopping bags weighing her down, "With mandarin oranges in 'em?"

The widely-known creative chief grinned at her, "Absolutely." Suddenly, Anna reversed Mikan's hold on her hands and began to drag her to the next store that caught her eye, "Come on, Mikan-chan, we still have a _lot _of work to do!" Mikan felt elated, glad to have someone who cared so much about her, "And I haven't even taught you the basics of make-up, yet!"

Mikan gave a dry remark, as befitted the situation, "Oh, well, we can't have that now, can we?" She heard a tune, faintly, "Anna-chan, your phone's a-ringing."

Anna dug into her purse, pulled out one of the latest cell phone models, and looked at it. "It's for you."

Confused, Mikan took it from her as Anna lifted some shopping bags off her, and pressed the 'accept' button, "Hello?"

_"Mikan-chan, help!"_

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"So let me get this straight." She looked her in the eye, unbelieving, "This guy here is the best you can do?"

Mikan glanced his way and nodded, unsure how to respond, "Uh huh."

"**Oi.**" He was clearly annoyed as they were talking about him as though he was not there or was not listening. He whispered quietly enough for Mikan's ears only, "Why the hell did you bring me here, Polka?"

"I'll make it up to you later!" She promised in a fierce whisper.

Reading his expressions correctly, Misaki answered his indirectly asked question, "You're going to be my boyfriend for an hour."

"_Quoi?_" (_What?)_

"Holy guacamole!" she stared at him, then at Mikan, unbelieving. "Mikan, at least find one who can speak Japanese!"

"I spoke Japanese _before _I spoke French, oh-clever-one."

"You mean he's not good enough?" Mikan asked, surprised. Most girls thought Natsume was irresistible...not that she agreed at all.

"Heck no!"

Clearly a little offended, he rebutted even though he thought this whole conversation was outrageous, "Why the hell not?"

"Simple. He's not good-looking enough." This earned a giggle from Mikan.

"_Excusez-moi?_" His eyebrows knit closely together, doubting what he just heard her say. He knew he was not the perfect looking man in the world, but as arrogant as he was, he knew in his heart that he leaned toward the good-looking side of the appearance scale.

"Well, you don't look _bad _enough!"

"Huh?" blurted Mikan. "Aren't you contradicting yourself?"

"Am not." She picked up a marker on the nearby coffee table and moved closer to Natsume, "You see, to give off an attractive aura, you have to look like a bad boy...like this..." His body automatically shifted in the opposite direction than the girl who was advancing on him and unfortunately, she caught his chin in her iron-strong grip, "Oh, stop fidgeting!"

"Oh my," After seeing the shape of the drawing, it dawned on Mikan that Misaki had someone else on her mind. "Misaki-senpai...I think..."

"And..._Voilà! _Oh!" She giggled, surprised at herself, "There's a bit of French for 'ya._" _She had drawn a star at the outer corner of Natsume's left eye. "Ir-ri-sis-ta-ble! Hm. I quite like it. What do you think?" She passed him a mini mirror.

Mikan nearly gasped, "Eto…Misaki-senpai…"

"You just ruined my face, you crazy lady." Apparently, he was unhappy about the new look.

"It's not my fault you were born with a face that needed improvements."

"Misaki-senpai," Anna spoke out for the first time since their arrival at Misaki's home, "Look at what you've drawn _carefully_, please."

She looked and looked...and then squinted when she did not see the point. "I know I drew a star—like a dangerous boy!" She grinned.

"That's Tsubasa-senpai's star..." Mikan just had to say it.

"Oh." She stared and continued to stare until she made Natsume uncomfortable. "_Oh_!" She gasped as her hand flew to her lips.

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"That was a lot of fun!" Mikan skipped lightly on their walk back to the café for the evening shift, "Who would've thought that Misaki-senpai always had eyes for Tsubasa-senpai?"

"I find it very romantic as well." Anna smiled, thinking it a pleasant turn of events. She glanced at her wristwatch, "I think I'd best be on my way, Mikan-chan, I need to help out with the dinner menu. Do not forget to take care of all the nice things I bought for you today and to take care! _Au revoir_!" She gave her a quick hug, a nod in Natsume's direction, and was on her way to her own kitchen.

Natsume changed the mood of the conversation as he slowed his pace to walk next to her, "_I_ find it a huge annoyance that I was dragged to an unknown place, insulted, and then dragged out without understanding anything that really went on.

"Aw, sorry Pervert!" She gave him her apologetic smile, "I couldn't bring Ruka because Misaki-senpai's mom already knows him."

"That doesn't tell me anything.

"It's a good thing Narumi-sensei let me take you too! Well, here's what happened..." she proceeded to explain Misaki's difficult position as the only child of a set of very loving parents, how he was the only one she could think of who could help Misaki besides Ruka, and how she had somehow unexpectedly fallen for her best friend.

Listening to her, only one question arose and he cut her off, "Why did you think of me second?"

"So in the end, she—huh?" Completely off-guard, she thought for a quick second and spoke honestly, "I don't really know. I guess it's 'cause Ruka-pyon's been there for me since...forever, so it's just natural for me to think of him first. I assume you're second because—"

"That's enough." He sped up, not wanting to speak more of it. The sudden, growing anger was both startling and humiliating. He will not tolerate any level of unreasonable jealousy, he told himself.

But then again, jealousy was not reasonable on any level to begin with.

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

* * *

**Author's Note:** I trust that you are all were, or still are, good French students currently or back in your days that you know words like '_Bonjour' _and _'Excusez-moi' _by now...

But just in case, it means "hello" and "excuse me" :)

I also borrowed the name "Bonheur" from a manga called Shiawase Kissa Sanchoume. Really cute and an uplifting read!

_Red Strings Of Fate  
_


	11. Let's Do the Tango

Café D'Amour

**Chapter XI: Let's Do the Tango  
**

Rising with the sun, Ruka stretched and yawned as he sat up on his western-style bed. Hearing his yawn, the birds flew in through the open window and peeped happily while the stray cats, kittens, dogs, and puppies meowed and yapped playfully at the side of his bed.

"Sh." He brought a finger to his lips. "You don't want to wake the neighbours now, do you?"

They quieted immediately.

As he was pushing himself off the bed, he looked up to find a clean t-shirt floating in front of him. He smiled widely at the bird-in-charge, "Thanks Piyo." The largest and most yellow of the flock of birds tweeted his reply. Then, while he was changing into his shirt, a quintet of dogs and puppies worked together to drag Ruka's jeans to his side. He patted their little fur coats, gave them a rub behind the ears, and then kissed them noisily on their foreheads. And still, as he pulled on his jeans, two pairs of kittens yanked a pair of fresh, white socks to his side. Chuckling, he did his best to give them belly rubs until they purred with satisfaction.

His mornings were, honestly, never boring.

After routinely brushing his teeth and such, he took his time to play with his many little friends before he poured food into large bowls for each respective group of animals to share and enjoy for the rest of the day while he prepared cold cereal with milk for himself.

"I wonder if I should walk Mikan to the café…" Shaking his head, he remembered something important he had in mind. "No, she should be okay since the café is so close. I need to talk to Natsume about something so I'll go before her."

Checking the clock on one wall, he noted the time and got ready to leave. "A good hour and a half to talk to him is good enough."

Gathering his necessities, he waved goodbye and departed his home.

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

**BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.**

"I'm up, I'm up!" Slamming the off button of my alarm clock, I rolled off my tatami mat to attempt to become untangled with my blanket and met the cold floor. Letting out a shriek, I stood and did my morning routine.

Hmm...But something didn't seem right when I slid my closet door open after I stepped out from the shower with my hair wrapped in a towel.

There were things in there that were never there before...

Memory flooded back as yesterday's tiresome day came back to me and I smiled. Anna-chan was right. It is wonderful to see such a variety of nice clothes to pick from in the morning.

I bit my bottom lip and studied the sets of clothing, "If it's going to be as hot as it was yesterday, I supposed I shall wear something refreshing and easy to move in..." I reached in and found the outfit Anna-chan had mention as the one that looked best on me. I may as well start wearing the best of my new clothes if I'm going to get used them at all.

Pulling on a strapless plaid dress that boasted my chest, pinched in on my waistline, flowed out, and stopped halfway to my knees, I remembered asking her if maybe this was a size too small. Apparently, tight clothes that move with your every movement are in now. Sometimes I prefer my nineties/seventies clothes, as Anna-chan kindly and mildly put it.

I slid my closet door to admire the one-piece with my closet door–slash-mirror.

I watched as the pretty woman in the reflection opened her mouth in surprise. So _this _was what Anna-chan was talking about!

My gaze lingered only for a second longer and then drifted down to the locket around my neck. I grinned and thought of how people used to say I had a close resemblance to my mother—something I am now very proud of because I never thought I could be as beautiful as she ever was. I guess I really can become someone who could be linked with the word 'pretty.'

With magic clothes, of course!

When my reflection's eyes moved up to look at her head, she laughed like I did when my towel-wrapped hair ruined the almost picture-perfect. Bringing my head down, I unwrapped the towel and rub it a few more times to make sure my hair wouldn't be dripping wet. When I flipped it up again to meet the mirror, I couldn't believe the vision before my eyes.

One thing's for sure: Pigtails are a definite no-go today.

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Taking a deep breath to stay calm, she lifted a hand and brushed the few loose strands of jet-black hair behind her ear. Hesitantly, she stepped through the large double doors, slightly unsure of how to broach the subject she had in mind, "Good morning, Your Majesty."

Without looking up from his newspaper in hand, he replied with a smile of a loving father, "Morning, princess. Call me 'Father' like you used to, you mean little child."

"How are your conferences going?" She spoke as if she did not hear him. Carefully taking a seat across from him on the elegantly crafted breakfast table, she ventured further, "Nothing...has gone awry, I presume."

"No, they are actually progressing quite well that even I'm surprised sometimes," flipping a page, he continued, "In fact, I feel confident that I am handling it especially well."

"Yes, you do seem to be in good spirit." Clasping her hands together, she rested them on the surface of the table. Either do this now, or forget about it, she told herself sternly. "Your Majest—Father, may I ask a question?"

Sensing the grave tone of her voice, he abandoned his paper and looked directly at her with patient eyes. She's exactly like Karou with her strict ways of conducting herself, he thought. "_Allez-y_." _(Go ahead)_

After knotting her fingers together in anxiety, she leveled her eyes to meet his unswervingly. "Recently, a piece of news has come to my attention concerning my—"

"It's true." Already expecting this from her, he told her exactly what she wanted. "And if you must know, the younger one has left us just last night actually. That boy has unpredictably become inspired by his big brother to search for adventure and to finally put a stop to his mischievous behaviours." He would have grinned at the courage and liveliness of his boys had he not considered how worried his one daughter was.

Her first reaction of shock showed clear and fast through her wide, darkened eyes. In another quick second, they were shut tight with her jaw muscles tensed. It was obvious to her father that she was reigning in all the emotions, sorting them out, and then getting herself under control. In reality, it was merely just a second that no one else, but her father, would have noticed. "I see."

He sighed quietly as a memory of her as a child with rosy cheeks and bright, honest eyes were once how she greeted every morning of every day. "If you wish to seek them..."

"No." Her temper was rising though she knew she could not throw it at Father. Easily, she managed a calm, strained voice and asked, "How are you so untroubled by this, Father? Do you not care about your two sons?"

He softened, knowing he gave her the wrong idea, "Of course not, Aoi. You know that is not so."

"It is an easy matter to misunderstand had you not appear to be so unconcerned."

"You have to understand." Listening to her talking to him in such formal speech irked him and pierced through his heart painfully. "They are growing boys and need to take chances; they have yet to see the world—how will Natsume become a better ruler than I if he himself does not comprehend what it is he should be doing?

"Why, do you think, we made sure you've all learned self-defense techniques? Even if you don't know how to live like an unspoiled child of the Royal family or to survive in the real world with common sense, you could defend yourselves against danger and escape the hands of death, at the least! You see," Leaning forward, he took her clasped hands in his and gave them a light pat, "I've been hoping and expecting them to do this for years. Natsume especially. He needs to discover, on his own, what he needs to do to help his country—he needs to love it like I do." Recalling his conversation with his right-hand man a few days before, he knew how she felt.

He had been worried at first, as well, but he can't deny that the reason he made his children promise not to run away was to encourage them to break it, to rebel. Truthfully, since that little chat, he did a complete one-eighty after he remembered that Natsume wasn't completely off his watch.

Aoi, being the kind soul she is, looked down and thought hard before uttering her next words, "I am sorry, Father, I spoke out of place."

Still with the formal speech, he thought sadly. "Oh yes, I forgot to mention that even though they have run away, I am still keeping an eye of them." He smiled maliciously. "I want them to discover the real world, yes, but they are still my precious sons whom I have no intention of letting go wholly until the time is right." He thought he saw a ghost of a smile tug at the corners of her lips.

"I should have known as much," she said this more to herself than to him, "Perhaps it is time for a small sibling reunion. After all you have just said to me, I am certain you will not object." She raised a slim eyebrow, knowing the answer.

He smirked and his attractive boyish qualities showed . "Of course not, Natsume is currently _working_ at a shop called 'Cafe D'Amour' in Tokyo." He paused, almost hardly believing it himself. "Just be aware that I will always be there with you." If Aoi was amused at the thought of her brother doing any kind of dirty work, she hid it well. " I have eyes everywhere, my child."

"I am beyond aware of that, Your Majesty." He winced as she swiftly switched back to his formal title and watched as she rose from her seat and curtsied, "Now if you will excuse me, I have some important matters to attend to. Have a good day, Sire." And with movements as graceful as a ballerina's, she exited the dining room.

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

"I'm leaving." Locking up my apartment door, I shrugged my shoulder-purse up and began leaving my apartment building. I clicked open my locket to discover to my pleasure that I was a good half hour early!

Like every summer morning, the sun was bright and blazing, almost cloudless as well. I flipped my hair back, pleased with how it's never looked better but also a little shy because I've never had it down before.

Walking along the sidewalk, I began to mentally analyze my morning as usual:

1) Got up before 10. Check.

2) Had a decent breakfast. Check

3) Dressed appropriately- and properly. Check.

4) Got to the café on time. Che—

Caught off guard, I squealed out loud as someone spun me around by the waist and then dipped me backwards like we were doing a tango dance. I don't know when it happened, but he had a fast hold on my hand that he pressed to his chest-more accurately,where his heart is. My free arm fought to keep myself off the ground by linking it around his neck as my purse fell to the ground.

"Hello there. Although I am currently in search of someone, it has been awhile since I have had company." I looked up and found myself looking into eyes with the charming colour of dark blue-green and hair the unusual colour of silver. "May I have this dance, fair maiden?"

I thought it was stupid how he asked since he has already put me in such a daring position. "Who are you?"

He looked genuinely taken aback. "Do you mean to say that you are not familiar with my features?"

He does look familiar…but I just couldn't place from what. "Does it _look _like I recognize you, Einstein?" I felt my temper rising. This guy reminds me of that pervert and the way he carries himself—like he's the king of the world! "Let me go!"

"My, you are an unusual girl." His gazed lingered on my face, then drifted southward, "but without a doubt, you are also one of the most beautiful."

If only my arms weren't struggling to keep me from falling, I would slap him! "Let me go, you pervert!"

"Allow me to treat you to breakfast."

It's like his ears are plugged with wax or something! "No!"

"Ah, but I cannot take 'no' for an answer." Like I was a feather of some sort, his arm picked me up from behind my knees while the other supported me around the shoulders. "Where shall we go? I am not familiar with this area, you see."

Appalled, I didn't know what else I could do against such a strong, weird stranger who talked funny as he quickly walked the opposite direction of the café with long strides.

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Since Ruka was delayed due to the several wild animals who wanted his attention during morning, he arrived at the café a little over half an hour earlier than the promised time. Ruka knocked on the doors just as Natsume came down the stairs to open them.

Walking through, he greeted him. "Morning, Natsume. Are you usually up this early?"

"Morning. It is a bad habit, but yes."

"I see." He thought about how to start the topic and decided to go with the straightforward approach, "You must be wondering why I'm here this early."

Natsume seemed to think a bit on this. "Not really."

Judging by his hesitation, Ruka knew he did wonder. Even if just a little bit. "Well, could we talk before Mikan comes along?" He nodded his consent for him to continue, "Well, this isn't really anything serious, but lately—"

Just then, they heard a familiar voice squealing. It was distant, but they both recognized it clearly.

Looking up at each other, they uttered a single name, "Mikan."

Rushing out the doors, they tried to follow the direction of the sound. They were disappointed when they saw and found no one.

"Do you think we imagine it?" Ruka gasped for air, worried beyond reason.

Natsume replied calmly, but his balled fists gave him away. "Not if we both heard the same thing."

"Wait." Ruka bent and picked up an object he easily recognized as Mikan's. "She was here."

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

* * *

**Author's Note: **Just to clear things up, Karou, I believe, is the actual name of Natsume's mom (Go wikipedia!). And Ryou is my made-up name for his dad since his name was never mentioned throughout the manga! (Izumi is his right-hand man and closest pal :))

_Red Strings of Fate_


	12. Talk about Shocking Revelations

Café D'Amour

**Author's Note: **I just wanted to express my joy at reaching over 200 reviews! Yay! Thanks a bunch to everyone who has read this—whether you left a review or not. Thank you :)

By the way, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to xAnimex. Thank you for your honesty and support, and sorry that this chapter is weeks late!

* * *

**Chapter XII: Talk About Shocking Revelations  
**

She said them quickly and repetitively enough that it sounded like a single word. "Let-me-go-let-me-go-let-me-go-let-me-go!" Her fists of course, pounded to the rhythm of every syllable.

"You know, I am beginning to hear the word '_amigo,_' which is Spanish for friend." The stranger gave her butt a friendly pat. Somehow, along the way, he had thrown her over his shoulder so that her fists-of-fury could not do any harm to his all-too-important face.

But now he was afraid his back would be in grave danger.

"Friend my butt, you pervert-slash-stranger!" She took in another deep, deep breath for the umpteenth time. "Let-me-go-let-me-go-let-me-go—"

_Where am I going? _Securing a hand behind the back of her knees while the other kept her balanced by grasping her lower back, he noticed that the number of people around them were slowly increasing.

Feeling that upon attracting too much would inevitably reveal his identity; he pulled a pair of sunglasses and a cap from his back-pocket and placed them where they ought to be.

The stranger tried, yet again, another effort to try to calm the wild beauty. This time, it would be the sympathy card. "It is unfortunate that I have not had anything to eat since breakfast of two days ago..." In truth, he had a mighty dinner-feast just last night.

"Let-me-go-let-me-go-let-me-go—"

"I am so very tired from traveling thus far through difficult means..." He had parachuted off a private jet just a couple of hours ago; difficult? Meh. Fun? It was a long _weee_ all the way!

"Let-me-go-let-me-go—"

"So lost in a place that is completely and utterly _alien _to me..." Partially true. He knew his country, but he was honestly not familiar with Tokyo.

"Let me go..."

"Unable to locate my dear friends and poor family members who must be worried sick by now..." He has already 'located' exactly what he had been searching for: adventure. Not family members and imaginary friends.

"..." Her movements seized instantly.

He smirked in secret while he mentally thanked his own genius. And then, just to be on the safe side, he breathed a sigh so filled with sorrow and melancholy that it even amazed himself.

"I'm sorry. I won't hurt you anymore, so please let me down."

"You will not attempt to flee?"

He felt her body quiver with the shake of her head. "I'll even have breakfast with you." He set her down on her feet. "If you just explained that to me from the start, I wouldn't have worked so hard to create a scene."

Trying hard to keep a gloomy face, the corners of his mouth dipped down ever so slightly. "I sincerely apologize for my poor behaviour. I simply cannot help myself when I am in the presence of a beautiful lady."

That boy was lucky because all those lies would only be believed by the most gullible, soft-at-heart, and lovingly family-oriented girl known as Mikan. And as if luck was truly on his side, his stomach produced an audible growling sound despite the amount of food he had recently consumed. He looked down and touched a hand to it.

She smiled at its volume. "Come on," taking one of his large and strangely familiar hands, she urged him to follow her, "Let's get something to eat. My treat."

As her eyes left his to lead the way, he allowed himself the moment's worthy grin of triumph.

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

"_Je ne peux pas comprendre comment elle peut juste simplement disparaître!_"  
_(I cannot understand how she is able to just simply disappear!)_

"Calm down, Natsume." Ruka noticed that whenever Natsume went into a fit of rage, he often switched to and fro with English and French. "We'll find her."

"_Mon dieu! _She does not even have so much as a _speck_ of sex appeal!" He demonstrated the size of the 'speck with the tiny space between his index finger and thumb. "_S'ils touchent une mèche de ses cheveux—"  
(If they touch a strand of her hair—)_

Ruka couldn't help a grin. "You like her, don't you?"

"I swear I will hunt them—" Shocked at his words, Natsume jerked himself back out of his little world of rage.

Taking advantage of his break in threats, Ruka continued, "You like her." He said the words like they were facts, not questions, this time. "A lot."

Silence greeted his words. Natsume just stared back, unable to deny it, unable to say anything.

"When we met, I felt we had a connection. It took me a while, but I realize what that connection is now." Even though Ruka felt relieved at unearthing the unnerving bond, the truth of it weighed heavily on his heart. "We both have the same dilemma regarding a single girl. We—"

"What does it matter now, Ruka?" Despair tugged at his mentality. She's gone, he thought miserably, she's gone.

"You're right. This isn't the time to be talking about that." He pulled out his rarely-used cell phone, "We've got to inform the police about her disa—"

"No!" Natsume swore under his breath as he quickly regretted the thoughtlessness of his outburst. "No, I just thought that...it is— I mean it's just unnecessary to involve the police force. They aren't reliable—it would take too long." He could not afford to be enquired; about _anything._ "Are there no other superior methods to find her?"

Ruka pondered a minute, briefly staring at Mikan's dropped purse and going through his memory for any kinds of links to Mikan. "Actually, there is a way." He saw a glimmer of hope in Natsume's calmed features.

He loves her just as I do, Ruka corrected himself. Natsume just doesn't really know it yet. "As we were growing up, I always found it weird that Hotaru—Oh." Just realizing that Natsume probably did not know who she was, Ruka began to expain, "She's Mikan's best friend..."

"We've met," he stated, recalling the moment when he had recently encountered the ruthless girl.

"I see. Well Hotaru always seemed to know _exactly _where Mikan was." Ruka briefly wondered when and how the two met.

Natsume's memory seemed to hit the 'rewind' button as the exchange between Mikan and her best friend played in his mind.

_Mikan gripped the edges of the swatter and peeled her face off—it was patterned with squares that were pressed firmly on her skin. "You're horrible, Hotaru! You've left Japan all summer and you come back just so you could finish me off!" She took a full minute to keep her feet balanced after she plucked herself off. Choking back on sobs, she struggled to say the words she wanted to say, "I've. Missed. You like. Hell. Damn it!"_

"_So this is where you've been. Good thing I planted that tracker on you so I could find you." She took a swift glance around the café before she turned to Mikan, "Did you change streets or cardboard boxes? Oh, nice upgrade on the clothing, Mikan, I see you've found an alternate solution to homelessness and bad taste." Effectively ignoring Mikan, the girl pressed a button on the swatter and it transformed into a miniature. She put this in her pocket—for later._

The scene ended there as one sentence leapt at him:

_Good thing I planted that tracker on you so I could find you._

Then, as the sentence ultimately fell away into nothingness, it left a single word:

_Tracker._

"Ruka," he pointed to the cell phone in his hand, "do you have that girl's number?"

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

After grinning widely, he swallowed it whole as she enquired, "How do you like it?"

"Dewishush." Gulping, he tried again, "Dainty, buoyant, and fluffy! What is this scrumptious appetizer?"

"Howalon." Simply happy to see a happy face, she smiled a smile that was completely open and genuine.

He murmured slowly and sceptically to himself, "Never have I attempted an endeavour to walk and eat all at once." He gazed at her and was captivated by her sincerity in her expression. "_Je__ t'adore._" (_I adore you.)_

The use of his French lightly tugged something from Mikan's memory, like it was pleading her to remember.

She let it slide for now. "Oh! I understood that!" Her face brightened some more, evidently pleased with herself. "'_Je_' means 'I,' or in this case, you," –she pointed to his chest— "And '_adore' _means adore—like English! You adore Howalon, right?" She beamed. "I adore Howalons, too."

He bit back a smirk, unsure whether or not he should tell her what she had missed in his French.

She popped another treat in and skilfully savoured it. "So you mentioned that you were looking for someone. Who are you looking for?"

Having no reason to lie, he answered frankly, "I am seeking my brother."

Mikan's eyes widened at the same time her hands clasped together in front of her chest while what she thought was his true story played in her mind. _Judging from his weird speech, way of life, and what he has told me this entire time, he came from afar just to search for his long lost brother! How unfortunate! How tragic! How courageous! _

_What wonderful sibling-ship!_

Noticing her wide-eyed reaction, his eyebrow raised in suspicion, "Are you having an epiphany?"

Inspired, she made up her mind instantly, "I will help you!"

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

The nearest diner was just a block away from the stranger's previous random direction of choice. It nestled quietly between a salon and a spa, making it a very smart business location to be as it attracts several female customers, who wish to have a quick bite here and there, and males, who would like to meet these females in the most non-feminine diner on this corner.

Finally seated, Mikan handed him a menu, "Have whatever you want. I recently got my pay check."

The stranger glanced at it, evidently unfamiliar with its contents.

"Right, how inconsiderate of me!" She plucked the menu out of his grasp. "Excuse me!" The waiter rushed over. "One breakfast special, please." The waiter nodded and left with the menus in hand.

She turned her attention back to a look of confusion. "You're not used to this kind of food, right? So we'll just have one so you can try it and see if you like it. I said you can order anything, but I like to save whatever money I can save."

"_Merci beaucoup._"  
_(Thank you very much)_

The tug was there again. _What did I forget?_

"You're welcome!" Pleased with herself for understanding him, she proceeded to make small talk. "I've been wondering this for awhile now, but why are you wearing sunglasses and a cap now? We're indoors."

"Ah..." He thought hard for an excuse but came up with none. "I would appreciate it if we did not discuss it."

"Sure." Always the jolly good fellow-woman, she conceded to his wish. Resting her arms on the table, she leaned forward. "Okay. What's your name, then?"

"What is yours?"

"I asked first!"

"Ladies first." He gave her a successfully annoying, chivalrous smile.

"You're such a gentleman." She narrowed her eyes at him, showing him she was sarcastic. "Mikan Sakura."

He slipped his fingers under hers and brought them close to his lips. "It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Miss Mikan." His lips brushed over her knuckles delicately.

Multiple shades of red played across the surface of her cheeks as her shoulders shrugged up in shyness. "W-well...um—n-nice to meet you, too." He's like a prince, she thought dreamily. "And your name is?—"

"One breakfast special." The waiter broke the spell and set the large plate with fresh-smelling bacon, eggs, hash-browns, and two slices of toast. "Anything to drink?"

Not at all deterred, Mikan went with the flow. "Orange juice, please."

"Coffee. Black."

"I'll be right back." The waiter gave them a patient and professional smile.

"English breakfast," he stated it simply.

"That's right, this diner specializes in Western foods." She passed him a fork and gestured for him to take a bite. "Try it."

Mikan watched, mesmerized, as his hand elegantly moved over the plate.

Perhaps it was the angle or maybe even the lighting of the diner, because at some point between the time he forked a slice of bacon and brought it closer to his mouth, Mikan had impulsively reached for him.

In the next second, the fork was dropped to the table and the slice of bacon was falling with a loud _splat _against the diner's once-decently-clean floor. With his hand held securely in both of hers, she examined them, trying to identify its familiarity to her. "I'm sure I've seen these wide-palmed hands before..."

She remembered a thought she had a long time ago that included that exact description: _Add that to the long, lean body, and superbly wide-palmed hands that clenched and unclenched during his sleep, he made quite the package._

For whom did she think that for? Whose hand did she recently study?

Politely leaving her to her own thoughts, he noticed that some of the grease from the little incident found a place on her sleeves. Having a napkin in his other hand, he moved to wipe what he could,"_Excusez-moi, s'il vous plaît_." _(Please excuse me)_

Then those previous tugs were not tugs any longer, they became a small, resounding 'click'.

She was not supposed to be eating breakfast with a stranger whose name she did not even know. In the midst of her screaming and shouting and cursing this stranger who literally swept her off her feet, she had forgotten a couple of very important people and a very important lesson.

She was supposed to be at _Caf__é D'Amour_, learning French with Ruka and Natsume. Natsume...whose hands looked and felt exactly like this, she thought. Coincidence?

She lifted her gaze from their hands to his sunglasses-covered eyes. "Who are you?"

He opened his mouth, prepared to tell her his full name when the doors to the diner were pushed open with incredible force. The intruders became the focus of all who were in the diner, but due to the morning sunshine, they were tall, dark silhouettes.

But Mikan saw one of them so plainly and visibly, it almost hurt her to continue staring in wonder. "Natsume." His name left her lips before she could stop them.

The stranger's squinted eyes snapped back to her. "Pardon me?" But Mikan's eyes were focused on the taller, darker figure that was approaching their table—fast.

Natsume's eyes were trained intensely on Mikan while he slapped his hand on the side of the table closest to her and towered over her. His voice was soft, but it sounded vastly cross, "_What are you doing here?_"

Both shocked and scared from the anger in his tone, she felt it was not a time to give him a clever-witted answer. Instead, her gaze slowly rolled towards her breakfast companion, hoping that that would somehow explain itself.

Natsume shifted his focus to the direction Mikan's eyes showed him. Another look of ferocity flashed across his features when he realized that the man sitting across from Mikan was the one who was very much responsible for her disappearance.

Without so much as a word, his fingers moved rapidly and removed both the man's sunglasses and hat.

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

I didn't exactly understand what happened next, but as soon as Natsume saw the face of the stranger, his expression showed two things: familiarity and incredulity. Did they know each other or something? It may be the stupidest thing to connect them by their hands but...

The stranger smiled openly with his straight and perfect white teeth, also having the same look of familiarity towards Natsume. "Nii—"

Natsume cupped his hand over the stranger's mouth rather roughly. "Youichi!"

And then collective gasps were heard in the room. That part was funny to watch because as soon as Natsume said it, he groaned out loud and then swore under his breath. A total 'Natsume-move.' Obviously, he didn't intend to say the stranger's name.

As always, I stared upwards as I thought. This time, I added several inaudible taps to my chin with a finger.

Youichi...Youichi...now why does that name ring a distant bell? Isn't he some kind of celebrity?

When I glanced back down, it was the weirdest thing because everyone was on the floor with their heads bowed and saying things like, 'Your Highness,' and 'Welcome, Your Royal Highness Youichi de Castille.'

...Your Highness? His Royal Highness Youichi de Castille?

Then my mind did its most natural thing to connect the dots, it began to list all and every indication throughout our time together to further prove his identity:

He can speak French fluently.

He talks with unwavering formal speech.

He's weird. Like the king, maybe?

I spent a full hour with a royal prince from a royal family.

I cursed him and I threatened him.

He carried me for about a block; over his shoulder.

I tried to punch his face.

Instead, I pounded his back.

I tried to feed him BACON.

Don't people get put in jail for these kinds of things?

Something I think called a...Royal Felony?

...

Feeling the first sign of panic, I felt my temperature rising. All those stupid clues stupidly yelled out, 'PRINCE, PRINCE' to anyone who spent the day with him as I did. No one will believe me that I had NO IDEA!

What if they really DO throw me into an iron cage and then lock it up for good?

For forever!

Darn my luck! I just passed the age to go to Juvie last year...

I have a future ahead of me!

I think.

For a fleeting moment, I ceased my inner torture and noticed that during my enlightenment, Natsume had been whispering intensely with the prince.

THE PRINCE!

And then I think I started hyperventilating _before _I passed out.

I _think_.

Talk about shocking revelations.

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Sorting through the reports of his sons' latest escapades, he concentrated on each word and eyed each document vigilantly as a knock sounded on the large brass doors, "Come in."

"You called for me, Sire?"

"I did indeed. Take a seat." Walking over to his alcohol cabinet, he picked one of his finest and served it despite his guest's constant objection of how the king should not be doing a servant's work. "How is your daughter doing, Izumi?"

"She is doing remarkably well on her own, I believe."

"Has she forgiven you yet?" Aware that he has hit a nerve, he encouraged him to drink. "It has been years, hasn't it?"

Taking a small sip, he sighed loudly. "I am almost sure she has forgotten everything about me."

"Well sure. She thinks you walked out on her and your unfortunate wife-plus, she hardly knew you before you left." When he witnessed his friend grimace from his comment, he felt sorry to have spoken so bluntly. He decided to get straight to the point, "What I need to tell you involves your daughter."

His eyebrows drew together, unable to determine whether the next bit of news would be good or bad.

The king relaxed and smiled, clearly having a good time messing with his good old friend.

"It is good news—nay, excellent if I may say so myself."

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

* * *

**Author's Note: ** Before any of you give me a review concerning the personality of Youichi, I'd like to remind you that he was just a mere child in the original story. In _my_ story, he is a teenager and was also raised in a way would make him a playboy. If you paid any attention to one of the previous chapters, Mikan mentioned that he was well-known as one, too. So please consider those facts before anything else!

_Red Strings of Fate_


	13. Threat

Café D'Amour

**Author's Note:** Alright, I know it's bad to make excuses for why I updated so late so I won't make one! I've had this unedited thirteenth chapter rotting in my saved files for over half a year and never felt motivated enough to finish it...that is until I read the rude but somewhat hilarious comment made natsumexmikan43vr. It was simple: _did you die? _Hahahaha...I think I had too much ice cream. Anyway, bottom line: thank you natsumexmikan43vr for making my smile today :) (Oh snap, did that count as an excuse?)

Here you go!

**Chapter XIII: Threat**

"Your Highness," the head chauffeur of the Royal family turned around from his driver's seat to look at his only passenger, "I still do not understand why you must come all the way out here. Alone."

She smiled at his concern. "Oh, Johnson, don't be a worry-wart. _You_'re with me, silly!"

He resisted the urge to make a face at her transparency. "And Your Highness is _positive_ that His Majesty approved of this little...little..." He couldn't recall what the princess had called it.

Luckily, she did. "A little excursion, Johnson, _excursion_." She emphasized it the second time, an attempt to make it seem like it really wasn't such a big deal.

The ride was smooth as she looked out the windows. Just outside of Tokyo, the view of several tall buildings came into sight. Still, she had never come out to Tokyo before and had to ask—just to be sure. "Are we there, yet?"

"Almost. Though I'm afraid that we will begin attracting more attention as we get closer to the populated area at this time of day..."

"That's perfectly fine. Please stop the car."

Pulling over, he did as he was told out of habit and then gasped in mocked horror when he heard a car-door open and then close. Johnson rushed out of the slim and black stretched-limo in a hurry. "Your Highness!"

But she was already gone.

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"Nii-san, you know this girl?"

He sighed with his eyes closed while his fingers messaged the bridge of his nose in an effort to soothe his rising temper—a motion he found himself doing too often. "Yes. Now explain to me, _again and plausibly_, why you are out here in the first place." Impatience was beginning to drum hard and annoyingly in his veins.

"I wanted to follow you and have an adventure!"

Youichi heard someone's vein pop, and it wasn't his for sure; and between himself, Natsume, and the sleeping girl, it could've only been one person. "When she wakes up, you're going to pretend that we do not know each other at all."

"Whaaaat? _Mais pourquoi (But why)_? Do you not recognize your loving younger brother?"

"Shut up."

"But, but—" Natsume shushed him with a cup of his hand. Mikan had stirred on the couch she was currently sleeping on.

Natsume heaved a sigh, his shoulders dropping with obvious relief as she continued to sleep peacefully. Practically forgetting Youichi's presence, he lifted a finger and tucked a few stray strands of Mikan's auburn tresses behind her ear. "Why are you always like this?"

Youichi knew better than to say anything during one of his brother's rare, gentle moments.

So he sat, silently observing his brother and keeping his thoughts to himself.

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

Ruka Nogi paced outside of the 'Employees Only' room, anxious and with his hands clasped behind his back. Should he go inside? Should he check on poor, unconscious Mikan? Should he question the relation between the young prince and Natsume?

Should he just allow Natsume to look after her right now?

…

He didn't know a single answer to any of his questions. He brought his hands to his face, dragged downwards.

And then he noticed a blotch of black moving quickly at the corner of his eye, right outside the café with its many windows. His gaze ingenuously darted in that direction.

Nothing.

Air. He decided that he needed some air.

Once he stepped outside, he sighed as a brisk gust of wind sent his anxieties flying away. Looking around, he noticed that he had never explored the small forest located approximately behind the café—he ventured in that direction, looking for an ample distraction.

As he stepped under the shade of a flanking tree, Ruka noticed a blur of yellow charging towards him. He lifted a finger for it to stand on, "Good to see you again, Piyo." The bird sang his greetings as Ruka brought him closer to rub his beak with his own nose.

Then Piyo took flight, slightly ahead of Ruka, and only travelled further whenever Ruka took a step closer to him. "You want me to follow you?" He tweeted a high-pitched note that meant, Ruka supposed, 'yes.'

For the next three, full minutes, Ruka followed the quite large, yellow bird obediently through the darkened silhouettes of lofty, towering trees. As the trees began to spread more widely, Piyo took off straight ahead. "Hey, where are you go—?"

And then he stepped into the full power of natural sunlight, completely exposed.

There before him was an open field, a meadow. Its tall grass was swaying gently with the wind while the fragrance of fresh, wild flowers robbed his sense of smell. He imagined himself lying in the middle of that meadow; completely relaxed, completely ignorant, completely—however temporarily—secluded from civilization; from everything stressful and insignificant.

He planned to make that a reality in just a few moments.

Taking a prolonged step towards the meadow, a squirrel rushed up to him. In her tiny claws, she appeared to be offering Ruka a round acorn. He bent over to accept the gift and to send his furry friend a warm smile, "Thank you."

As he moved towards the middle, he noticed that several other creatures intended to join him as well and grinned in spite of himself.

Eventually, he reached a spot that had appeared to have already been used. The grass had been patted down, the area cleared. Assuming it was a deed done by his little friends; he lowered himself on the spot and let them make a bed of him as they wished.

He loved the feel of the warm sunshine, especially on his face, and hence, for the next few minutes, he basked in it; utterly unguarded and defenceless. So when a dark shadow seemed to block the sun's artless pathway to his face, it was simply natural for him to be alarmed.

"_Excusez-moi_," the voice was firm, but light—also very feminine. "_Mais je pense vous avez pris ma place ici." (Excuse me/But I think you have taken my place here.)_

His eyes jolted open, surprised to hear another human voice.

Ruka looked straight ahead to see a blob of darkness that, he deducted, was indeed very, very much human. And female. "I am terribly sorry for startling you. Do you not speak French?" At his silence, she corrected herself, "Do you speak at all?"

He blinked. Once. Thrice. And then sat up, forcing the girl to stand up straight, too. "Who are you?"

"So he speaks—Japanese!" She smiled and dimples appeared near the corners of her lips. Cute, he thought. "Hello. I am the previous proprietor of this very spot." She pointed down towards the patted area.

"Oh! I'm so sorry." He fumbled to stand up and stared down as he brushed off pieces of grass, "I thought my friends here might have created this spot for me." He gestured towards the animals off to the side. As soon as he said it and gestured, he had second thoughts. He lifted his head to try to meet her gaze, to gauge her reaction at his suggestion that he can communicate perfectly well with animals.

The only thing he could do was be impressed by her height and appearance—she was only about two inches shorter than his five-foot-eleven. She donned a sweater in purple—a royal kind of purple—and a pair of white capris with flats, also in royal purple. He noticed the pair of intent, intelligent cherry-coloured eyes and her midnight-black hair, cropped precisely between her chin and shoulders, that fit nicely around her lovely, heart-shaped face. Ruka's first thought was that she looked like a prettier version of Natsume...but strangely, it wasn't in a bad, weird way as it usually is with opposite-gender-lookalikes.

The tall girl stood with impeccable posture and with her thumbs hooked into her back pants pockets. "Your friends?" With one of her glances at the small creatures, they skittered away. "But they do not seem to like human beings...much."

Great, now she thinks I'm crazy, he mused. "Never mind." While patting his behind of grass, his eyes strayed back to her facial features again. She was indeed worthy of the word 'stunning,' but what more was stunning was her resemblance to Natsume...her height, her hair, and even the rare colour of her eyes. "Anyhow, I will be on my way; again, I apologize for tak—"

"No, no. It is quite alright." She dismissed his apology with a swift wave of her hand. "In which direction did you enter this meadow by?"

He pointed. "I came from _Café D'Amour_. I'm a waiter there. Ever heard of it?"

She gasped, "_Oui_! In fact, I have been searching for that exact place. Would it be too much to ask of you to take me with you?"

"Sure," just a little weary of her reaction, he gestured for her to walk ahead of him, "So did you get lost or something like that?"

"Something like that," she smiled with her dimples showing again. "I was...engrossed with my surroundings."

Ruka immediately thought about his morning with all the animals slowing him down. He chuckled, "I know exactly what you mean. There's just so much...out here isn't there?"

The girl took a deep breath in; smelling the wild, becoming the wild. "Absolutely," and then she walked on ahead.

As he followed behind her, directing her with words, he noticed little things about her.

She walked with a type of refinement that he'd first seen from Natsume, and then Prince Youichi. It was the kind that commanded all eyes and respect at the same time, except she had more grace, more polish in it.

"Have you heard the news about the Royal family?" She asked lightly without breaking stride.

"No." She caught him in the middle of a thought process and it made him a tad disoriented. Concerning the recent Prince-Youichi-Bust, he didn't think it would make it to the media this fast—so he assumed she was speaking of another topic. "I don't read newspapers and magazines or watch the news, so I don't know much about the Royal family." She turned around to look at him and he smiled. "I simply love the inhabitants of the nature world too much to risk having cables or anything around to harm my little four-legged and winged friends."

"Oh. So you have pets?" He flinched initially, but nodded with a shrug, not able to think of a better explanation. He hated that 'p' word. "But I think that explains why I am not receiving 'The Treatment' from you," she quoted it with her fingers, "However, I am glad. This puts me more at ease. What is your given name?"

"Ruka. Ruka Nogi. What's 'The Treatment?'" He mimicked her 'quote' finger motion.

She chuckled; a low-pitched, heartfelt, purr-like sound. "It was fashioned during an incident when I was just a child. My brothers and I were—wow."

They stepped out of the edge of the forest and from the back view, the tall glass windows revealed the arrangement and themed designs of the café. The vivid and intense natural radiance of the sun, at this time of the day, shone its beams cheerfully and proudly through, and reflecting against, the glass. It looked like the whole darned thing was glowing.

Ruka bowed like a waiter would, with the knuckles of one hand over his lower back and the other pressed just above his stomach, and flashed a smile. _"Bienvenue au Café D'Amour."  
(Welcome to Café D'Amour)_

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

"_Monsieur, nous avons fixé l'endroit de la cible._"  
(_Sir, we have secured the location of the target._)

The man brought his fingers together, each one touching the tips of its opposite. "_Excellent. Préparez pour la prochaine étape._"  
(Excellent. Prepare for the next step.)

"_Bien_ _sûr._" (_Of course.)_ The messenger took a polite bow with a hand over his chest and exited as silently as he had entered.

Seated in a grandiose chaise fashioned to be like a throne, the man responsible for the 'operations' touched a ringed hand to his forehead and leaned on it. Resolute, he breathed a single sentence: "I will possess what was rightfully _mine_."

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

In the world, there is darkness. Darkness is the absence of light.

But in _this _world, there was blackness. And this blackness was synonymous to nothingness. It was neither too far away nor was it close at hand; seemingly stretching forever into the distance, yet it also feels as though it was tangible all at once.

Mikan reached out, glimpsed down at her hands. She could see herself. Why was everything else not visible? She took a step forward, and for the first time, nothing changed at all. She blinked and stared but no matter how hard she was trying, there was still nothing.

This world of blackness brought confusion to her heart. Where was she? She reached out again, grasping, clutching, hoping; hoping to touch anything that could be a clue—an indication, anything— to her current location.

And really, she was simply hoping to touch some sort of evidence that she wasn't completely alone within this world of blank nothingness. She brought a hand up to her neck, relieved when the locket was where it ought to be.

Subsequently, she felt a warmth pressed against her back and she stared down to find the sudden appearance of her shadow. Automatically, Mikan turns around to find its source.

Light.

And within the center of that light stood a beautiful woman whose face Mikan always kept around her neck. A tear fell, silent and sad, as the woman called her name in the way she always had when she was alive, "_Mikan._"

Mikan opened her mouth to respond, to call out to the woman in the same endearing way. She brought a hand to her throat, it felt constricted. Her voice refused to speak. Mikan's eyes darted up, panicking at the uncomfortable feeling, looking for answers.

"_Sh, Mikan, it's okay. It isn't your time to speak audibly here yet._" Mikan took a step towards her instinctively, but she never seemed to get any closer. "_Listen, Mikan, I don't have much longer._" She stopped and looked at the brunette with cropped hair, whose eyes were the same shade of brown as Mikan's. Mikan was desperate for her to stay as long as possible. "_You must forgive._" Forgive who? she wanted to scream the question, scream when she could not even speak. "_You must forgive him._"

Forgive who, mom, forgive who?

"_Promise me..._" The woman began to fade and Mikan sprinted, unwillingly to let her mother leave her, painfully, for the second time.

Don't go! she thought frantically.

She dove, reaching a single out-stretched hand towards her mother's disappearing one.

She was so close, _so _close! Then she couldn't help but cry when she, expectedly, missed and her mother disappeared from her life, right in front of her eyes.

Again.

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

Her condition worsened as time slipped by. Was that sweat collecting at her temples? Was this what they call a fever? He pressed a hand to her forehead. Her body temperature was definitely above normal.

"Youichi. Go downstairs and bring me a glass of water and a clean, damp towel."

"_Non. Pourquoi tu ne peux pas le faire?_"  
(_No. Why can't you do it?)_

Natsume glared at his younger brother's defiant, haughty French tone (-cough—mirroring his own tone—cough—), briefly frustrated that he happened to be at that rebellious phase in life at this moment. The glare did its job, though, and he got up to do as he was told, mumbling fervently at the same time. Something about how big brothers weren't supposed to care about girls more than they cared about little brothers.

A tear slipped from the corner of one of Mikan's eyes. Natsume brushed it away with a finger, wondering what she was seeing in her dreams and feeling the desire to bring an end to the reason for her tear.

Mikan opened her mouth but said nothing. Her brows wrinkled, confused. This happened a couple times before her face relaxed again. She mumbled, barely coherently, like how all sleepy individuals mumble, "Forgive who?"

Natsume searched her face for a minute, was she finally awake?

She wasn't. But her brows wrinkled again. "Don't go!" And her hand shot out, miraculously catching at Natsume's and pulling him down beside her. His free hand flashed out in movement and caught his weight on the couch space, just beside Mikan's ear, while his one leg kneed the cushion nearest to the back of the couch. He was frantically trying to avoid hurting her.

"_Chérie_, what kind of twisted game are you playing?" He whispered furiously. Natsume hated to be caught by surprise but then Mikan started to cry— not a single tear, but...several.

Tears weren't considered fair play, but Natsume's anger evaporated in an instant anyway. He lowered himself so that their bodies touched but without his weight upon her by leaning on his elbow.

Thought fled his mind because that was what happened whenever and wherever Mikan was concerned.

With his hand still caught firmly by Mikan's, his lips lightly grazed the corners of her left eye, her right eye, tasting the flavour of her slightly salty droplets of tears. And slowly but surely, his lips trailed down to meet hers.

In contrast to the flavour of her tears, the taste was sweet. When he let his weight go to his knee, the hand that was not hostage to Mikan's caressed the side of her face, her cheek. He explored, probed, and deepened the kiss, willing her to respond. And then, to his delight, she did.

Mikan kissed him back.

Natsume retreated, breathing heavily, examining her expression again. To his disappointment, she was still unconscious. "Goddamn woman." How could she arouse such feelings in him in her _sleep_? That in itself was astonishing.

And somewhat humiliating...because it felt one-sided.

But goddamnit!

He still loved her.

"Nii-san...I don't mean to interrupt..."

Natsume's attention flitted towards the tall boy standing at the threshold of the door. Damn again for not thinking to secure the darned door! Natsume didn't want to lose contact—physical and emotional contact—with Mikan, but he forced himself to as he raised himself off of her and the couch and stood his full height. "How much did you see?"

Youichi grinned, a foolish one that he only revealed to his siblings, "Nothing I haven't seen—or done— before." Youichi thought he was being clever by coughing the 'or done' part into his hand. At Natsume's don't-joke-with-me expression, he sobered up. "Anyway, I think we have a problem."

"Did you bring the water and towel?"

"Er—Make that two problems."

Natsume sighed, apparently familiar with how easily Youichi gets distracted. "_Alors, quel est l'autre problème?_"  
(_Then what is the other problem?_)

"Nee-san is here to kick our butts."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Go to my profile and help me decide the genre for my next story by participating in my poll, please!

Happy birthday, Canada!

_Red Strings of Fate_


	14. This is Goodbye

Café D'Amour

**Author's Note:** I aimed for finishing this chapter for the first of September, 2009. I failed like no failure has ever failed before. Thank you to all my patient readers :)

**Chapter XIV: This is Good-bye  
**

"_Écoutez soigneusement._" (_Listen carefully.) _His hundreds of loyal followers hushed each other and glanced up at him at the sound of his commanding voice. "_Notre prochaine étape inclura un appel téléphonique. Puis, ce sera un _'blast.'"  
(_Our next step shall include a phone call. Then, it will be a 'blast'.)_

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

"Nii-san, I hope you know that this is not a very beneficial situation." Panicked, Youichi paced quickly within the room. "Nee-san _will _destroy us."

"You,"—Natsume pointed a rude finger at his younger brother— "shut up."

"But—"

"Not another word, Youichi." Youichi clamped his lips shut. "We're going to escape."

"Escape? Where in the world are we going to—" Natsume gave him a sharp look. Youichi shut up.

"Where did you see her?" Hearing no answer, Natsume glanced over.

Youichi was making a visible, struggling effort to prevent his lips from parting. "I'm asking you a question, Youichi; it is disrespectful to not provide an answer when you can."

"Outside. She was conversing with a tall boy—even taller than her, too!—with blond hair. I think the one who was with you when you stormed into the diner where Mikan-chan and I were—"

"That's enough." Natsume quickly touched his forehead to Mikan's. It was no longer hotter than his own. He kissed her forehead, no longer caring about his younger brother's presence because this may well be a last, solid goodbye. "Grab your belongings, Youichi, we're leaving immediately."

Youichi watched his brother move about the room swiftly, collecting what little personal effects he owned during his stay there. He felt his back pocket for his hat and then the front of his shirt for where he hung his sunglasses.

Natsume whipped up a small note and left it on the coffee table. "Ready?" Youichi nodded. "Good. Let's go."

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

She studied the empty café and its down-turned chairs stacked on the tables. "Are you positive we are permitted to be in here when it is closed?"

"Positive. Sometimes I also wonder how normal it could be for an employer to trust his employees to this extent. You get used to it." He felt her smile and did the same. "So tell me more about 'The Treatment' incident you were talking about before."

Aoi watched him as he casually leaned backwards on the counter, his weight on his elbows. He appeared to be very comfortable with himself, so at ease that she couldn't help but be affected by his affability.

She enjoyed his company—especially because he did not know her by her title. To him, she was simply "Aoi," and not "Her Serene Highness Aoi de Castille." She felt the need to make sure it stayed that way.

"'The Treatment,' is, well, basically," How could she go about this story without exposing her identity as a princess? "Well, when I was young, I—uhm...you see, ah, my brothers..." she found herself gesturing wildly like a madwoman, looking for a bogus cover-up story.

Her Serene Highness Aoi de Castille did not gesture like a madwoman, she realized, and she certainly did not use fillers like 'uhm' and 'ah'. What has gotten into her?

Ruka sensed her dilemma. "Come on, I'll take you upstairs where everyone else is." Aoi seemed both pleased and relieved by his suggestion.

Instead of directing her where to go from behind, he led her by hand this time. She didn't seem to mind his method of guidance—something that would have been considered _un offense royale (a royal offence)_ due to his lack of title and status.

_Au contraire_, she thought as the cool temperature of her hand warmed to the same temperature as Ruka's, _j'aime ce type de traitement._  
_(On the contrary/ I rather like this type of treatment.)_

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

Youichi began in the direction of the door, but stopped, confused, when he realized that Natsume was headed towards the opposite direction. "Aren't we leaving?"

"Of course we are."

"But the door's this way."

"I can see that."

"So you're over there because..."

Natsume unlatched the lock of the window. "I'm going to teach you how to fly today, Youichi."

"Goody! I've always wanted to try hang-gliding but Dad didn't really approve of..." reality dawned on him when Natsume gestured grandiosely through the window. "Oh, Lord."

"Don't worry. We've done scarier things, have we not?" Natsume smirked arrogantly, "did we not jump off a plane together just last year? This is only a mere two stories high."

"But we had parachutes. PARACHUTES. You know, SAFETY GEAR THAT SLOWS US DOWN SO WE WON'T DIE?"

"Unless you wish to speak with Aoi-nee, who could potentially be standing right outside that door at this moment, I suggest you do as I do. Besides," he fixed both his hands and a foot on the ledge, "you should have some more faith in your athletic ability," and launched himself over.

"Why is Nii-san so reckless? That's my job!" Youichi walked to the ledge and assessed the height as Natsume darted into the forest. He looked back at the sounds of footsteps inside the café.

Youichi heaved a big sigh. "Monkey see,"—he gulped—"monkey do."

He obeyed and followed suit, undignified.

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

Mikan blinked her eyes open to an empty room. Where was everybody? What happened? As she raised herself onto her elbows, she rubbed her head and tried to put her memories in order.

Only three words emerged: Prince. Royal. Felony. After awhile, another word came to mind: Mom. Then another: Natsume.

So she had committed a crime, kind of. Met a royal prince of her country, kind of. Dreamed of her mom saying something about...about what? Mikan touched her face to feel what was left of her dried up tears. She couldn't quite recall, but she did vividly remember what came next; Mikan dreamed that she kissed Natsume.

She closed her eyes to the memory that dominated her thoughts at the moment. His soft, masculine scent, the fit of their bodies, and his lips travelling along her face, gently kissing wherever they touched until he reached her lips...it didn't feel like a dream at all. Mikan pressed a hand to her chest, aware of her speeding heartbeats.

Mikan began to panic, "I hope this doesn't mean I'm as perverted as Natsume!" She wasn't sure when it began but every time she thought of Natsume, her heart would race so fast that her breathing would be affected. She questioned herself: that should only happen when I'm physically tiring myself out, right? Right, she thought as she answered her own question.

"This isn't good, then. Not good at all. Must consult for assurance..." she realized that she didn't have the money to seek professional help, "Must confide in someone...someone experienced...an adult? Narumi-sensei!"

"This is the employee's room."

Mikan jumped at the voice. Was that Narumi-sensei? Just when she thought of him? Freaky. She listened more intently:

"Actually, a friend of mine is resting in here, so we'll have to be quiet, okay?"

Ruka.

Plus someone else.

Instinctively, Mikan ducked beneath the covers just as the door clicked open.

l٥ﻻ ﻉ√٥υ f٥гﻉ√ﻉг

"Mikan?" Ruka peeked into the room. He let go of her hand as he moved in to check on Mikan. "She's still asleep. Come on in."

Aoi stood at the threshold, staring at her hand. "_Ce qui est ce sentiment?" __(What is this feeling?)_

"Sorry, it is a bit breezy in here. I'll close the window." Where's Natsume and Prince Youichi?

"_Non, celui n'est pas le problème._" It took her a minute to realize that he understood her. "_Vous n'avez pas mentionné votre capacité de parler français."  
(No, that's not the problem/You didn't mention your ability to speak French.)_

"_Vous ne m'avez pas demandé_."  
_(You didn't ask.)_

She was very impressed until she caught movement at the corner of her eye. Aoi raised a questioning eyebrow at the bulge on the couch who was introduced to her as Ruka's friend. "_Elle est endormie, oui?_" _(She is sleeping, right?)_

"_Oui,_" Ruka was puzzled at the question that asked the obvious, "_pourquoi demandez-vous ?_"  
_(Yes/Why do you ask?)_

"She appears to be twitching an awful lot—in her sleep." She was amused at the sight. Clearly, this friend of his was irritated.

Ruka inspected Mikan, "You're right." He moved closer to her, lightly shaking her, "Mikan-chan? Mikan, are you okay?"

"ALRIGHT! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE, WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE SAYING?" Mikan popped up from her previous sleeping position, huffing with the effort of feigning sleep. She didn't know why she felt compelled to hide, but that was what she did. Now it just felt embarrassing.

Ruka was taken aback—he was close to her when she 'popped' up. He was a full two steps away from her until she swooned. He closed the distance to support her in an instant. "A-are you alright, Mikan-chan?"

"Yeah. I'm okay. Got up too fast." She waved a hand at his unnecessary support. "So what were you guys talking about? The French is killing me!"

Mikan's eyes darted from the girl Ruka was conversing with, to Ruka, and then back to the girl. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped. She resisted the powerful urge to point a rude finger at the one girl she never thought she would meet in her lifetime.

Ever since the incident that created 'The Treatment,' Aoi had gained the skill of instantly spotting the early symptoms that led up to it. Aoi closed the space between herself and the girl. "_Donnez-nous un moment, s'il vous __plaît__,_" she hoped he would understand without any questions.  
_(Give us a moment, please.)_

He left the room obediently, albeit a little curious. Aoi was grateful for his kind nature.

"Listen, Miss Sakura, I am aware that…"

Aoi couldn't continue, not with Mikan staring at her like that. She did Mikan the favour of lifting her jaw up, so that her two lips met, and manually minimizing her enlarged eyes. "Are you quite alright, miss Sakura?"

"…" Mikan couldn't believe it. Aoi was even more beautiful in person than she was on the magazine she kept at home. _Her Serene Highness Aoi de Castille TOUCHED MY JAW!_

"I would appreciate it if you could stop staring at me like that."

"…you…my name…"

"Your name is Miss Sakura. Am I mistaken?"

"No…you...you know my NAME!"

"Yes, Ruka-kun informed me of it."

"I'm so…" Mikan's glazed eyes shone with joy, "SO HONOURED! This is such an amazing moment to be able to meet my country's princess!"

Then, as though she remembered her own status in comparison, she tried to bow awkwardly and said, "How do you do?"

Aoi chuckled under her breath. What an interesting girl. "Fine, thanks. Do me a favour and do not reveal my identity to Ruka-kun. Please."

"You mean he doesn't know? Your Highness' face is on every magazine, every channel, and even on the internet! " Mikan was appalled. "HOW CAN HE NOT KNOW?"

"You should ask him that yourself—indirectly, of course." Aoi smiled. Miss Sakura was a very open girl who made her feel at ease. "And please, just call me Aoi."

"Oh, but I couldn't! You're a _princess_, you live in a _castle_, and, and, and, you're a _prin—_!"

"And in return, I shall call you Mikan. Deal?"

"It's a dream! It's as though I am close friends with THE princess of our country!" Mikan's hands clapped together, overjoyed. "What are you doing here, Your High—Aoi?" She changed the name at Aoi's raised eyebrows.

"Some information has brought my attention to this area. I am personally investigating it myself." Aoi's eyes darted around the room, searching for any information or indications of her brothers.

"Wow…" Mikan's eyes glazed over again, "you do so much for our country. It is such an honour to be in your humbling presence!"

The carpet was ruffled with quick and rash movement, there was a slight shoe-mark on the window frame, and…what was that piece of paper on the table?

"What is this?" Aoi's attention was completely concentrated on the note, which was addressed to Mikan. "It is for you."

"Oh, I don't know." Mikan received the note from Aoi and began: "'Sorry, Polka. Have to go. This is good-bye. N.'"

"'N?' Who is that?"

"Just another employee of Café D'amour." Mikan clutched the blanket and it bunched-up in her fists.

Have to go? she wondered, Go where? And why does his good-bye sound so…final?

Aoi noticed Mikan's distracted disposition and decided to leave the answer to the mystery of the name for later. She got up and examined the floor and window more closely. There were two different markings on the window, and just below it, the bushes were semi-destroyed; its leaves and twigs were strewn everywhere, but they also left an indiscrete trail into the forest behind the café. It was quite clear that someone had escaped through the window, and judging by appearance of the carpet, quite swiftly as well.

Could it have been her brothers?

A gentle knock sounded at the door, "May I come in now?"

"Come in." Ruka entered, and Mikan gestured to the note. "Do you know where he's going? Did he say anything? Did you talk to him at all while I was asleep? What's going on? Why is he saying good-bye?"

"What do you mean? He was in here with you the whole time you were unconscious. He didn't mention anything about leaving or going anywhere. And now that you mention it, I didn't even see him leave the café. Didn't he tell you anything?"

"I haven't seen him since I woke up." Mikan's heart raced slightly at the new information. _He was with me the whole time?_ "He only left this message."

Ruka took the note and examined it himself. "It seems to be written in a rush. Well…although it appears to be a permanent leave, I'm sure he'll be back again. I've always known Natsume to be a rash fellow. And where's Prince Youichi? He was here with Natsume, if I remember correctly."

The familiar sound of a name broke through Aoi's concentration on her observations. She held up a finger as she turned her body in their direction. "Wait, excuse me. What were those names you just mentioned?"

Mikan suddenly made the obvious connection between Aoi and Prince Youichi. "I'M SORRY; I DIDN'T MEAN TO THREATEN YOUR BROTHER!"

"Your brother?" Ruka baffled face was directed at Aoi.

At Aoi's warning glance, Mikan cupped a hand over her mouth.

Aoi approached Mikan quickly, comforting her soothingly, "Mikan, are you okay? You just woke up from fainting, so you are probably not thinking straight. Not straight at all." She explained, to Ruka, "I'm sure she has me confused with someone else." Mikan nodded vigorously in agreement.

Mikan was afraid she upset Aoi by nearly exposing her secret. But Aoi's expression revealed only slight confusion and a subtle amusement.

"So tell me more about this…Natsume." Judging from the difference in their titles, she determined that their 'Natsume' may not be the same as the one she knows as her Crown-Prince brother. Her brothers had a lot to explain to both Ruka and Mikan. "And the famous Prince Youichi."

"It's a long story, actually…basically, Prince Youichi appeared out of nowhere and kind of kidnapped Mikan,"—he glanced at Mikan for confirmation (but she was too busy filling her head with the misunderstanding between her and Prince Youichi)—"but that still isn't clear, really. Natsume is just another employee of Café D'amour."

"Fascinating that you've met THE prince!" Aoi feigned the most common reaction in regards to the Royal Family. Interesting, she thought, It is as though I am giving my own brothers 'The Treatment.' How ironic. "And this Natsume…does he have black hair and ruby-red eyes?"

"Yes, actually, he bears a resemblance shockingly similar to yours. I noticed it immediately when we met."

In her mind, all the evidence in the room, and all the information and descriptions of her brothers, fit together quite nicely.

There was only one place they would go now, she knew. A slow, winning smile emerged on her beautiful features.

Check and mate.

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_Red Strings of Fate_


	15. The Enemy

Café D'Amour

**Author's Note:** Sorry for this ridiculously late update. I had actually forgotten all about this until I was bored and randomly checked the reviews for it. All your support and encouragement to continue writing made me remember why I started posting stories on FF in the first place. Without your reminders, this chapter wouldn't have existed. Thank you all :)

I'm a little embarrassed to say this, but since it's been so long, I've forgotten my original plan for the story and may stray a bit from here on out. If anyone catches anything that's off, please feel free to point it out!

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**Chapter XV: The Enemy**

The tapping on the glass doors were becoming more annoying by the millisecond.

Mikan's attention wandered to the direction of the cafe's entrance. "...Aren't the doors open?"

"Yes...they are. I'm going to go take a look. You stay here and rest Mikan-chan." She nodded while watching Ruka take off.

Ruka picked up the pace as soon as he saw the panicked look on the man's face. He pushed the doors open for him. "Are you okay?"

"Excuse me my name is. Johnson." He was out of breath. "Have you seen. A tall girl. Wearing purple come by?"

"Ah, you must be looking for Aoi." Johnson nodded invigorously, hardly in the state to be concerned about Ruka's lack of a title for Her Serene Highness. "I'm sorry, but you just missed her. She left in a rush in that direction." Ruka pointed towards the edge of the forest.

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"I swear the trails are saying they came this way..." Aoi wrinkled her brows in thought. _Something seems off._

Slowly making her way through the forest, Aoi was becoming increasingly frustrated with her predicament. She groaned out loud, making a sound she would never permit herself to make in the presence of others. She stepped under an inviting, large Sakura tree, grateful for the protection against the sun. With a leap and some climbing, she took a seat on a branch hidden behind a thick bunch of blossoms. The blooming season was so beautiful. Aoi got comfy, rolled her shoulders back a few times, and then finally sat back and relaxed. _Where am I?_

She looked backwards at the trail she had been following. Flattened grass and broken twigs made it clear that her brothers rushed through in this direction...except there seemed to be another set of inconspicuous trails that went around the obvious ones left behind by her brothers. Coincidence?

Or were her brothers being followed?

She closed her eyes and tried to analyze what she had seen. The second trail had a very inconvenient path, swerving left and right, occasionally stopping at the base of large trees—evident in the way the grass around those areas were not only flattened, but twisted around in a mess. As though whoever had been there was turning to keep a watch on their targets...

"Where did she go?"

At the voice, Aoi's thoughts quieted, her body tensed. Had she been followed as well?

"Dun'no Boss. Way I see it, she juss' up an' disappear'd!"

Men. Two of them.

"You idiot! First you lose sight of the boys, and now the princess?" Aoi heard the man smack the back of the other man's head. "He's not going to be happy with this. He wanted hostages, not empty-handedness!"

"Bu'h Boss, them boys was quick. They was whippin' through them trees like them ninjas on TV!" The man whipped his own arms and legs around in an exaggerated attempt to recreate what he had seen.

Another smack. Aoi shifted her position so she could get a better view through the blossoms. The first man who spoke was clad in a dark suit and tie, his hair buzzed, shoes polished, and sunglasses shielding his eyes. He had a very stern expression with a very square jaw to boot. Strong. Aoi could easily make out that quality even with him wearing a suit. The second man with the accent wore the same thing, but wore it differently. The dress shirt was unbuttoned and opened at the chest, no tie to be seen, shoes were grass-stained, slightly pot-bellied, and with sleeves rolled back. His hair was styled back; Long and greasy-looking. A gold tooth sometimes caught the sun's light when he talked.

"Princess was quick herself, too. Was so quiet sum'times. Hard t'uh follow quiet foot'd ones without gettin' caught, y'uh know, Boss?"

"You better not let this happen again or there may not be anymore chances for you after this." The man pulled out a notebook. Flipped to a page and appeared to skim through it. "Well, at least you got some good information."

"Thanks Boss! Work'd hard for y'uh, see?" The two men turned around and headed back the way they came, conversation fading off into the distance as they discussed whatever was in the notebook. Aoi watched as something slipped out of the book, unnoticed by the men. No longer concerned with getting caught, Aoi pushed through the blossoms to get a better look. She let out a small gasp.

It was a picture of Mikan.

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Swiftly moving across the room with the air and elegance of royalty, she pushed open the double doors to the dining room. "Found you two."

"Aoi, my child! How lovely of you to join us. How long has it been since we've had a family reunion like this?" King Ryou boomed out with joyous laughter. "Come, come. We were just reminiscing about the old times."

"Hey Aoi-nee, where have you been?" Youichi flashed an innocent smile in her direction.

"Oh, you know, I have been busy hunting for a couple of monkeys." Her gaze pierced through Youichi and Natsume. "A couple of _very _irresponsible monkeys."

Natsume smirked. "Well, did you catch them?" Youichi giggled.

"No," Aoi's expression sharpened at the mockery, "but I did happen to meet some interesting people during my search." She sighed and took a seat near her family. She intended to intercept her brothers on their way back to the castle, but she couldn't completely figure out their tracks after they left the Café. They pulled a good one on her this time. She'll get back at them next time. Definitely, without fail.

The double doors burst open. He breathed the words out heavily, "Your Majesty, I bring you urgent news!"

The royal family turned their heads abruptly towards the voice. King Ryou's expression fell as he stood from the head of the table, a large hand pressed on the surface. "Izumi, what is the matter?"

"It's…" Izumi looked around at the other occupants of the room, bowed quickly to acknowledge their royal presence. "It's _them_, Sire."

King Ryou nodded as he maneuvered around the dining table. "We'll discuss this in my office." He turned to Youichi, Natsume, and Aoi; flashed them a smile. "Play nice, children." Then the two men left the room with brisk strides. The three stared at the backs of the men until the double doors swung shut.

Youichi whipped his head to Natsume. "Nii-san, what do you think that was about?"

"Izumi-san said '_them_.' It could be business related." _Or something dangerous…_

"Are you as curious as I am? They were awfully serious." Youichi rubbed his chin in thought.

Aoi knotted her hands together nervously, thinking about the picture stashed in her pocket. "I think I may know something."

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—**Two weeks later**—

_Sorry, Polka.  
Have to go.  
This is Goodbye.  
-N_

I don't understand, she thought. Why was Natsume in such a hurry?

Sakura Mikan stared hard at the note. It's what she's been doing at home ever since Natsume's sudden disappearance a full fourteen days ago. Her hands began to shake.

She was angry.

This boy—man, whatever!—shows up out of nowhere, scaring Mikan half to death thinking _he was dead_. They didn't even treat each other well at first, having a martial arts showdown as soon as he provoked her. Natsume was a pervert who saw the pattern of her pure, maiden underwear; a pigtail-murderer who was scary as soon as he woke up. He was so impulsive, too! Forcefully taking her first kiss…and her second...had he ever asked for her consent during either of those situations? No!

But he had a kind side, too. He got angry on Mikan's behalf when a customer molested her. He even had a cute side when he proudly announced his progress with 'dish-washing.' His French always left her in awe and sometimes left her quite jealous, but also made her want to hear more of it. His voice always made her heart skip a beat…

Mikan shook her head as her thoughts strayed away from feelings of anger.

The boy appears, integrates himself into Mikan's life—turning it upside-down—then just simply disappears. Every encounter with Natsume figuratively puts Mikan on an emotional rollercoaster; One so rickety-old that the bumps along the ride leave her a tad disoriented and, at many times, utterly confused. He's done so much damage and leaves without a proper goodbye! Mikan felt she had every right to be angry with him…and his note was so brief and frustratingly insufficient to boot.

Come to think of it, he's just like Hotaru, Mikan thought. Why are all the important people in my life so similar? Am I an idiot who can only make these kinds of friends?

No...Natsume and Hotaru are different. Growing up with Hotaru, Mikan learned that she could count on Hotaru to come back sooner or later, without any doubt. Hotaru would always—_always—_come back. But what about Natsume? She has only known him for less than month and even then she still doesn't know much about him. She cannot trust that he will undoubtedly come back like she does with Hotaru.

_What if I never see him again?_

Mikan was madder at herself than with Natsume's disappearance. Regardless of the sense of betrayal he left her with, she still missed him.

_I want to see him._

"Mikan-chan?" Mikan looked up at the voice. She stuffed the note under a cushion. "Sorry, you left the door unlocked so I invited myself in." Ruka studied her expression. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean 'what's wrong?' I'm perfectly fine, see?" Mikan smiled weakly.

Ruka wasn't convinced. "Are you still worried about Natsume?" Her smile faded away. She could never directly lie to the face of an important friend. "I'm sure he's fine. I mean, it's not like he was taken away by force, right? He did leave a note behind." He gave her a pat on the shoulder. "You'll see him again someday. I'm sure."

Mikan nodded dumbly as she turned away from him. "Yeah, you're right Ruka-pyon. Let's get to work together now, wouldn't want to be late!" She got up to get herself ready.

"Wait." Ruka courageously reached out for her hand. "Turn so I can see your face."

Mikan paused and the silence stretched on for a minute.

"No."

"Mikan, please." He tugged at her hand lightly. "Look at me."

She threw her free hand across her eyes then slowly turned in his direction. Despite her efforts, tears were visibly rolling over her cheeks. "Mikan-chan…" Ruka stood and gently pried her arm away. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm not. Sad I'm. Actually very. Angry." She sniffed noisily between words. "I mean. It's not like. I. Really liked. The pervert. Anyway." Her shoulders shook with the effort.

Ruka could not resist any longer. He pulled her towards him, engulfing her within his arms. Although she was initially surprised at the sudden and uncharacteristic aggressiveness, Mikan burrowed her face into his chest, grateful for the opportunity to hide her tear-stained face. "Ruka-pyon. I want to. See him," she muffled into his soft sweater.

Memories of Natsume began to play in her head like an old film again. It was partially in black and white and was occasionally disrupted with brief white scratches; as though everything occurred years before, not just a mere two weeks ago. Most of the memories weren't even considered 'good' memories but they were still precious to her.

He was so weird. Who else could be so arrogant and confident of themselves? Who else could carry themselves as though they were the king, like Natsume? She couldn't imagine meeting someone else who has never washed dishes in their life at Natsume's age. She couldn't imagine someone else making such a big deal about wearing yellow gloves. She couldn't imagine someone else who could make Mikan lose herself from a simple kiss to the temple. She couldn't imagine kissing someone else.

She couldn't imagine nor think about anyone else but Natsume.

Ruka tightened his hold on her, brought her back to the present. "And what are you going to do if you _do_ see him? Are you going to cry again?" He paused, letting his words sink into the crying Mikan.

She didn't respond…but her lack of a response was enough of an answer.

It hurt him. It hurt him because it was an indication of the level of importance and care Mikan had for Natsume.

Does she care more about him than me? Ruka wondered sadly. I would never do anything to make her cry like this.

Ruka sighed heavily, preparing himself as he dropped his head near her ear and spoke delicately, sincerity painfully clear in his voice.

"I won't let you go if you're going to cry again."

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**Fun French-y Facts! **Although _tu_ is commonly regarded as the singular tense for "you" and _vous_ is the plural version, _vous_ can also be used in the singular tense to show respect to someone of higher status or to someone who is a stranger. _Tu_ can do two things as well: represent the level of familiarity between two people or to exhibit rudeness or the lack of respect.

**A/N: **I realized this chapter is kind of short. My apologies! I'll be leaving soon to travel to around Asia so I wanted to post this chapter up first, as fast as humanly possible. Hope you enjoyed it :)

_Red Strings of Fate_


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